Start Over
by CantoCookieMonster
Summary: A couple days before their birthday, Canada and Hong Kong suddenly vanished. No one knew where they went, how they disappeared, or why they left. Their close friends and family were confused, but they did not stop searching. Eighteen years later, two teenagers were found, and they appear to be the missing nations. However, it seems they are no longer who they are supposed to be.
1. Prologue

**Hello! **

**CantoCookieMonster here!**

**I started another story... I hope you guys like it! There are no pairings, and I'm only rating it T because I'm paranoid. **

**Translations are at the bottom. **

**I DON'T OWN HETALIA!**

* * *

**June 29, 20XX**

Canada unlocked his front door, and walked into his house that was located in his capital city, Ottawa. It was another day of paperwork, another day of being invisible, and overall, just another day in his life. Actually, thinking back on it, he hadn't received much work lately. Harper seemed to have it all under control. Since when did going to the Parliament buildings start becoming a formality? Canada ignored the feeling of emptiness as he continued inside. Soft padding steps accompanied by slight clicks on tile floor notified the nation that he had woken up his bear. Coming into view, the small polar bear asked the question he did every day.

"Who?"

"Canada." The blond simply went over to his pet, scooped up the white ball of fur, and went to the kitchen to prepare some food. His bear never remembered, but it was fair, because Canada never remembered the bear's name either. "Kumaju, what do you want for dinner?"

Listening to his bear list off multiple types of fish and different brands of syrup, the Canadian went around his kitchen, opening cabinets and grabbing ingredients. He paused when he noticed he was getting short on maple butter and Amber maple syrup. He would have to restock before he made pancakes again, otherwise there wouldn't be enough.

Putting everything Kumajirou had asked for in a plastic bowl, Canada put in on the table, next to where the white fluff ball was sitting. The blond got himself some leftovers from the night before, and popped it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave and soft munching noises filled the house. It was getting tiring, being invisible. No one really noticed Canada, not to mention how many times he was almost hit by drivers claiming not to see him. England, France, and most definitely America, did not have this problem, so why did he? Canada didn't snap out of his thoughts until Kuma tapped him on the head, telling him that his food was done.

Eating slowly, Canada wondered if anyone still remembered him, or needed him. Maybe Kumatoto did. Who else would take care of him?

Canada thought about this some more as he finished his food. Would America remember him if he ever left? Probably not. Neither would England, or France, or the rest of the world for that matter. Sighing, he put his dishes in the sink, pausing only a second before starting to wash them. Canada turned to grab Kuma's empty bowl and washed that as well. He didn't have any work to do tonight. The blond decided just to take a shower, check his emails and go to sleep. Then, the next day, it would be the same thing.

Life as a nation was beautiful. So beautiful.

Canada shook his head and went to the stairs, making his way up with Kumariju right behind him. The house was too big for one person and a small bear. With thoughts of buying a nearby apartment, the nation went to his room so that he could start his night routine. He looked at his alarm clock, and it stared back at him, its numbers declaring seven thirty. Looks like he would be going to sleep early.

He never took long showers, so Canada wasn't surprised that when he came out, only five minutes had passed. Taking a seat at his desk and turning on his computer screen, the blond absently clicked on his mail.

_**From:**__ Germany_

_**To:**__ The World _

_**Subject:**__ World Meeting_

_Hallo everyone._

_This is just a reminder for the world meeting that is coming up on July 1__st,__. Everyone is expected to attend. This includes nations, special administrative regions, and micronations. This meeting will be an important one as we will be discussing some pressing matters, and also, just to check up on everybody._

_The meeting place in my and mein bruder's capital city, Berlin. Please do not be late. It starts at 10:00 sharp. Also, as a reminder to some of the more eager representatives, we do not allow fireworks or firecrackers._

_Danke, _

_Germany._

Canada chuckled. He could imagine the German nation typing this with Prussia hanging over his shoulder.

July 1st. His birthday sure came around fast. He made a note to himself to make a small cake for himself and Kumajiru. Looking at the contents of the email again, he noticed that Germany mentioned regions, and firecrackers. It was then Canada remembered that Hong Kong, the young Asian personification, shared his birthday. Perhaps he would bring his commonwealth brother something when he went to the meeting.

Another message had arrived, this time, from a certain self proclaimed hero.

_**From:**__ The Hero! (The US of A!)_

_**To:**__ All you International Dudes, and China, who is sort of a dude, but isn't really. And all the Girls. (This may be China.)_

Canada laughed softly. China wasn't going to like that.

_**Subject:**__ The hero's BIRTHDAY PARTY!_

_Yo Dudes!_

_It's that time of year again! That's right! It's my totally amazing birthday!_

_I'm holding a massive party in DC and all of you are comin. ALL OF YOU. Even Sealand. Cuz, seriously. Who doesn't wanna celebrate the Fourth of July? IT'S GONNA BE THE BEST PARTY EVER!_

_So don't forget guys (I don't think you will, LOL). _

_DC, July the Fourth, to celebrate me._

_See you all there, cuz, I know I will,_

_AMERICA, THE HERO!_

The Canadian just stared at the screen. Fourth of July. Apparently, it was always more important than the First. Sure, there wasn't a flashy, violent war behind his independence, but would it kill the world just to remember that his birthday came a couple of days before America's? Canada was getting sick of the belated birthday cards he got from England after he got over his annual Fourth of July slump, if he remembered to send it.

Shutting down his computer, Canada headed to his bed, feeling a little sad, and a little lonely. He pulled back his maple leaf bed spread and let his polar bear climb in before getting under the covers himself. Not bothering to set his alarm, the blond drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Canada looked around to find himself surrounded by white. His clothes were white, and there wasn't anything else around. 'This has to be a dream,' he thought._

"_**You can consider it a dream."**_

_The North American nation glanced at his surroundings, but saw nothing._

"_**However, it is not. I am here to give you a choice."**_

_Canada didn't understand. A choice?_

"_**You may choose to be temporarily relieved of your duties as a nation. There will be no replacement for you during this time. If you wish to take this opportunity, you are warned, for there is a price."**_

_The nation thought before answering. "I ... still have things to do," said Canada slowly. "And besides, I think England, China or even America would appreciate the break much more than I would."_

"_**I cannot do that. I cannot afford to take them away. They are-"**_

_The blond looked up at where he thought the voice was coming from, with sudden anger taking over him. "Still of use to their countries? Still important? Still needed?" he asked bitterly._

_The voice seemed to hesitate before answering. __**"...Yes."**_

_Canada laughed. It sounded hollow, distant. "Sure, why not? I get a break, and no one notices."_

"_**I remind you, there is a price. Is this what you have decided?"**_

"_Anything is better than staying where I am now."_

"_**Then it is final. Canada, your absence has been granted. Take care."**_

_As soon as the words were said, everything turned black, and Canada's image faded away._

* * *

**June 30th, 20XX**

The personification of Hong Kong sighed as he put down the phone receiver. He was tired. So many things had been going on lately, and the load didn't seem to be easing up. No, it wasn't his family, although they were kind of crazy. Hong wished it was that simple. It was his people. The citizens of the Special Administrative Region of Hong Kong were unsatisfied. Every day, the phone would ring, telling of protests, rallies, and conferences going on about what the people weren't content with. Sometimes, citizens were being patriotic to China, and sometimes they were completely against. Hong didn't even try to explain anymore that there was nothing he could do about it. In fact, the brunet probably suffered more than anyone. Whenever his people weren't content, he got a headache. No matter how many pills he took, it never helped. The young anthropomorphic representation was literally being torn apart.

When his phone rang again, Hong answered in Cantonese with the same emotionless tone as he always did. It was probably the police again. "No matter what you say, I already told you I can do nothing about this. There is only so much a government branch office manager can do."

"HONG, ARU! It's me, China!" Dropping all pretenses of not being a personification, Hong Kong mumbled his greeting to his older brother over the phone.

"You're so quiet, Hong! I was calling to ask whether you were coming over for dinner, aru." Hong Kong shook his head, even though he knew China couldn't see it. Normally, he would have accepted the offer, but he just couldn't do it.

"No, I'm sorry.下一次先啊*."

"Okay, aru. See you tomorrow at the meeting! And tell your people to stop protesting. It's beginning to spread, aru." China said goodbye before hanging up.

"If only I could," whispered Hong Kong as returned his phone to his pocket. The gleam of the sunset shone through his window and reflected off the glass door. It was getting late. He packed up his things, and headed out the door. Most of the workers were gone already, except for one. The worker probably wanted to finish off any work before Hong Kong S.A.R Establishment day, which was a public holiday. Establishment day had been Hong's birthday since 1997.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Wong." The young Asian dipped his head in acknowledgement towards his subordinate before going towards the elevators. As he waited, Hong Kong tried to ignore his overwhelming desire to sleep and his growing headache.

Going down on the elevator, he quickly exited it and the building, and tried to flag a taxi. He was in no mood for his crammed subway stations, especially not when he was going to the Central District. If he did, he would have to pass by the Admiralty station, where everyone was rushing in four different ways. No, he was taking the taxi. Managing to get one, Hong Kong plopped himself into the backseat.

"你要去哪裡啊,哥哥子*?"asked the Taxi driver.

"中環, 畢打街*," replied Hong Kong. As the taxi sped off toward the Central District's Pedder Street, the young personification gazed out the window, wondering if there was ever going to be time for him to relax. Even though he knew the other countries had much more to deal with, he himself wasn't used to this. Hong didn't know what to do.

The red taxi cab pulled up along the side of the street, and after paying the driver, Hong stepped off onto the busy Central District sidewalk. Navigating his way through people with years of experience, the seemingly young Asian easily found the building where his residence was, and entered it and its elevator. Normally, Hong Kong would have headed towards the other side of the Island, where he lived in public housing in order to put himself in the shoes of lower income families, or to Kowloon, where his private housing apartment was located, the one where he would go to interact with middle class families. But, he couldn't do it. He loved the kids in the public estates, and the people in the private estates, but he just did not want to deal with anyone.

He was welcomed into his penthouse apartment by his panda. Picking up the small bear and tossing his bag onto the floor somewhere, Hong walked to the floor to ceiling window on the other side of the room. On the streets below some protesters were still holding signs and chanting words that Hong couldn't hear. The Asian turned away with a slight hint of pain in his eyes, moving towards the couch and flopping down onto it. He loosened his tie, set his panda on his abdomen, and sighed. Hong didn't care if he was still in his work clothes, or if his email was unchecked. He didn't care if he hadn't eaten, or if he didn't set his alarm clock in order to get to the meeting on time. All he could think about was sleeping, in order to get away from it all.

* * *

_Hong was lying down in what looked like an endless white space. If this was a dream, it was definitely a weird one. Looking at himself, he saw he was dressed in a light white shirt and pants. Where was he?_

"_**Representation of Hong Kong."**_

"_Yes?" Hong replied quietly to the low echoing voice ._

"_**I have heard you. You may choose to be temporarily relieved of your duties as a region. There will be no replacement for you during this time. If you wish to take this opportunity, you are warned, for there is a price."**_

"_What do you mean, relieved?" asked the Asian._

"_**You are granted with a choice of having an absence."**_

_Hong Kong swallowed as he thought. He wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. Sure, he would probably have to come back after, but a little break couldn't hurt. "What's the price? And what about my panda?"_

"_**The price will be revealed later. Your bear will be fine."**_

_The young representation thought a little more before making up his mind. "I choose to take it."_

"_**It is final. Hong Kong S.A.R, your leave has been granted. Take care."**_

_When the sentence ended, all the white disappeared, and with it, Hong Kong._

* * *

**_July 1__st__ , 20XX_**

Germany watched as the representatives flowed into the room. Some looked dishevelled, probably because they had forgotten about their plane and had rushed to their airports. With over two hundred people in the room, Germany was amazed at how no one had gotten in a fight yet.

CRASH! The German sighed. He had spoken too soon. Before anything could happen to turn everything horribly wrong, Germany decided to take control. "EVERYBODY SHUT UP! THE MEETING IS STARTING."

All those in the room froze, then headed towards their seats with quiet, spread-out chatter throughout the room. Standing at the front, Germany cleared his throat and began to speak. "Since there are many of you, I ask that you take attendance in each of your geographical sections, and report if anyone is missing before we start."

The blond paused as the occupants took note of who was present. Germany started to call out when he saw everyone settle back down. "Central and South America!" A confirmation of presence was made for the group.

"Western Europe!" France stood up, and had nothing to report but a wink.

"Northern Europe!" Multiple hands, belonging to the Nordics, England and his brothers, and the Baltics, reached up.

"Central Europe!" Switzerland stood, shook his head, and promptly sat down.

"Eastern Europe!" Russia waved from his seat.

"Southern Europe and the Mediterranean!" Italy flailed hello from his spot in the room.

Germany continued until he got to Oriental Asia. When he arrived at the group, China stood, but spoke as well. "Hong Kong is missing, aru."

The German furrowed his brow, but kept calm. "Try contacting him," suggested the blond, but the Chinese man was already waiting for someone to pick up through his cell phone.

Meanwhile, the host country moved on through the rest of Oceania and Africa. When Germany got back to North America however, he saw the hands of America, Mexico, and Greenland only. There seemed to be something missing.

"Where's Birdie, America?" asked Prussia from across the room. Said country turned, and finally noticed the empty chair beside him.

"HE'S NOT HERE!" the American declared.

"I CAN SEE THAT," retorted the albino.

"Contact him as well, America," said Germany. The North American nation was unlocking his phone as the German spoke.

"_**No need. They will not answer."**_

Everyone in the room stopped and looked around. Where did that voice come from? It certainly wasn't Germany, whose voice, surprisingly, was not low enough. "What do you mean they will not answer?" asked China, with a hint of nervousness.

"_**They will not answer you. They are not able to answer you."**_

"Where are they. What did you do, and who are you," growled America. There was no answer. Immediately, China, Korea, Macau and Taiwan stood up, all booking immediate flights to Hong Kong from their phones as they briskly left the room. America, France, and England all stood with phones in hand, and went to the door too.

Before leaving, England turned back to Germany. "Continue here. We'll call back if we find anything." The Central European nodded as the Briton disappeared.

He, along with many others, hoped the two missing nations were alright.

* * *

**July 1st, 20XX**

In a hospital in Ottawa, Canada, a baby boy was born into the world to a happy, human family.

**July 1st, Two years later**

A healthy baby boy was born to a warm, human family in a hospital in Hong Kong.

**To be continued.**

* * *

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**Translations! (Traditional Chinese/Cantonese - English)**

下一次先啊: Maybe next time.

你要去哪裡啊,哥哥子?: Where do you need to go, mister? (actually, it's a slang term for a young man. Not the most respectful way to greet a customer, but hey, it's slang.)

中環, 畢打街: Central, Pedder Street. (A place in Hong Kong, on Hong Kong Island)

Central District, or just Central, is a busy part of Hong Kong. To get to it, you can take the MTR, which is the subway, but it's crowded. VERY CROWDED.

To any readers that can read the Chinese, I know it might not be grammatically correct, but I tried to write it as how it would be said in Cantonese.

**So, Tell me what you guys thought! Liked it, hated it, you tell me. Other characters will show up later, don't worry. :)**

**Please review. Reviews are amazing. :) So is Constructive Critisism. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**CCM**


	2. Chapter 1: Remembering and Finding

**Helloo! **

**I'm glad you guys like this story! **

**Thanks to everyone that reviewed! **

**Warning, there are back and forth timeskips in this chapter, so if anyone gets confused, I apologize.**

**I DON'T OWN HETALIA!**

* * *

_**Fifteen years later.**_

An Asian teen sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the noise his brothers and sisters were making from somewhere in his house. Turning on the internet, he logged onto a website and started to type.

**From: **L. Cheng (fireworks97)

**To: **M. Lalonde (joue_hockey)

**Subject: **Introduction

Hello!

This is my first time emailing someone for something like this, so excuse me if this is a little awkward. I do not know you yet, but I hope we can get to know each other, even if this is a school assignment thing. I hope you're not some pedophile, but since this is an official program, I'm pretty sure you're not! So, here we go.

**Name: **Leon Cheng

**Where I live: **Vancouver, BC

**Birthday: **July 1 ; **Age: **13

**Family: **Three Brothers, two twin sisters, all younger.

**What I like to do: **Listen to music, sleep, swim, go ride my bicycle, watch fireworks.

**What I usually do: **Help out in my parents' restaurant, listen to music, sleep.

**What I don't like in general: **Hot tea, animals, people that don't express themselves properly.

Now you tell me!

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**From:** M. Lalonde (joue_hockey)

**To: **L. Cheng (fireworks97)

**Subject: **Re: Introduction

Bonjour!

I have done this once already, but getting to know someone new is always a good thing, oui? By reading your description of yourself, I can tell we will get along. I will get to practice my Anglais, and maybe you, your Français!

**Name: **Mathieu Lalonde (Matt is fine.)

**Where I live: **Québec (ville), Québec

**Birthday: **July 1 ; **Age: **15

**Family: **One older brother, one younger sister.

**What I like to do: **Play hockey, listen to music, sleep.

**What I usually do: **Play hockey, listen to music, sleep.

**What I don't like in general: **Maple syrup, and quiet.

I wait for your reply!

* * *

**Eighteen years after the incident. (Present time)**

England walked into the room where they held the annual Retrieval and Prevention meeting on July 1st, the one that was established after Canada and Hong Kong mysteriously disappeared. There was no one there yet, but the Brit took a seat in one of the chairs positioned around the table. This was the eighteenth time he had come to Washington DC for this meeting, and every time, he came away asking himself if he had done something wrong. Both of the missing personifications had once been under his care. Did he have something to do with their disappearance?

England shook his head, and denied anything that could convince him that it had indeed been his fault. Instead, he turned his thoughts on to the fact that it had been eighteen years. Even though nations usually felt that years go by fast, the time had dragged on slowly. Everyone starting looking out for one another what had happened, because no one wanted their close friends or family to vanish. Sweden and Finland started keeping an eye on Sealand, Poland on Lithuania, and in particular, Germany, Austria, and Hungary all watched Prussia, who didn't represent a country anymore.

As the Brit leaned back on his chair, the memories of that day came back, and the incident played out in his mind.

* * *

**Eighteen years before, on the day the two disappeared.**

"America, are you already getting a plane that is ready to fly to Canada?" asked England, who was walking behind said nation with France.

The American nodded, and continued to dial Canada's number over and over again. America didn't know what to do. The strange voice said that Canada couldn't answer them, but didn't tell them why. The blond tried to shake the situation off as a joke. Canada and Hong Kong were probably playing tricks on them, right? However, deep inside, he knew that the voice was probably telling the truth.

England, America and France all went as quickly as possible to their cars outside. Not particularly caring about driving safely, America sped off, with France and England following the path he opened up. In front of those three, people on the street could barely make out four other cars swerving dangerously down the streets. The four nations going after Hong Kong were anxious as well.

Careening into the airport parking lot after being honked at and probably yelled at by every Berlin driver on the streets, the nations parked and got onto their respective planes. The Asians on a flight to the Hong Kong International Airport, and France, England and America on a plane headed for Ottawa Macdonald-Cartier International Airport. The two planes took off as soon as possible, and even though they were headed in different directions, both groups shared the same feeling. The hope of the safety of their family member.

* * *

The plane ride from Berlin to Ottawa seemed longer than any other plane ride America, England, and France had ever been on. They itched to get off the plane, and the moment they did, they ran through the airport like madmen, stopping only to show their representative passes at the customs desk. America, being more familiar with North America, didn't bother looking for any mode of public transport. It would take too long. Instead, he took England and France out of the airport, and all the way down the pickup and drop off area. At the end of the sidewalk was a black car, ready and waiting. England and France had no idea when America had prepared all of this, but didn't ask. They just got in the car, and watched as America broke all of Ottawa's driving laws.

America plowed through the streets, slowing down only to turn into Canada's driveway. From there, the three personifications ran to Canada's front door, and opened it with a spare key.

"CANADA!" yelled America as soon as he crossed the threshold. "CANADA, WHERE ARE YOU?"

England headed towards the kitchen, France towards the basement, and America upstairs. All three had no idea what to expect. France, in the lower level of Canada's house, found nothing but sports equipment and old things should probably be in a museum of Canadian history. The Briton a level above him saw clean dishes neatly stacked to dry in the sink, but everything else seemed to be completely normal. Finding nothing, the two came together at the foot of the stairs, deciding to go up when they heard nothing from America.

They looked through the rooms and stopped at the entrance to Canada's room. Neither France nor England said anything as they saw the scene in front of them. America had frozen, standing right next to Canada's bed. One of his arms held a hibernating, curled-up polar bear cub, but the other hung at his side. "He's not here," whispered America, "He's really not here."

"America." England tried getting the other's attention, but when he got no response, he resorted to personal means. "Amer- Alfred." At the sound of his name being used, the younger nation turned his head towards the door."Repeating the obvious won't get you anywhere."

France moved into the room and placed a hand on the American's shoulder, trying to provide some sense of relief. "Rosbif, try looking at ze télé. Maybe somezing 'appened to ze country itself," said the Frenchman. England frowned at the name used to call him, but he went over to the television in the Canadian's room. It could be that France was right. Maybe something had happened in the country, and that made Canada disappear.

However, the moment the Briton turned on the television, it was filled with the scene of joyous people lining the streets, waving Canadian flags. A voice started to speak.

"_Now, let's all sing the National anthem!_" After a short musical introduction, the room was filled with the sound of thousands of people singing O Canada together. At the end, the same voice shouted to the crowds. "_HAPPY CANADA DAY!_"

"His citizens are completely fine, and this kind of thing should give strength to a nation," said England with a strange tinge of apprehension in his voice as he turned off the television.

Although he said nothing, France's face displayed a look of worry.

America's face was completely blank, but he spoke.

"Where'd you go, Canada? How am I supposed to find you? Mattie, why'd you leave?"

* * *

**Present time.**

England couldn't get the sad look on America's face out of his thoughts. The other blond had been devastated when it was made clear that Canada was nowhere to be found. That look of loneliness and abandonment was the last thing he ever expected to show up on the usually obnoxious face of America.

The footsteps of another nation showing up in the room brought his attention back to reality. "Hello, China." The Asian personification who had just entered nodded a greeting, and then sat down heavily in a chair across from the European. "Only two years short of two decades, huh?" The Englishman let his words float between him and the Asian.

"It's been way too long, ahen. Way too long." China had felt an emptiness since the day Hong Kong had disappeared. It certainly wasn't as bad as eighteen years ago, on that very first day, that first night, but the feeling never left.

"Do you still remember that day?" asked England, seeing the faraway look in China's eyes.

The Asian nation blinked. Of course he remembered. There was no way he could forget.

* * *

**Eighteen years ago.**

Ten hours on the plane. It seemed longer than that. To China, Macau, South Korea and Taiwan, the flight from Berlin to Hong Kong was torture. China sat on the edge of his seat, ready to strangle the pilot if they didn't land soon. After losing Hong once, he couldn't lose him again. When the message came that the plane was landing, all four personifications got ready. The moment the plane was opened to the airport, they dashed out, dodging any other arrivals. Breezing through customs due to their lack of luggage, they ran all the way to the Airport Express train that would take them to Central district. Macau had suggested they look there first, since it was the closest along the subway/train line.

Time seemed to stretchas they rode the train, and no one spoke. All four of Hong's family members only thought of their brother, and if he was okay.

The train pulled into the subway station, and from there the four dashed out once again, located the right exit, and found themselves right in the middle of a busy Hong Kong sidewalk.

Since all of the personifications had years of experience in crowds of people, they made their way expertly against the flow of people on the sidewalk. Macau led the way into the building and to Hong Kong's apartment. He had come over many times before, sometimes for nothing more than to drink a simple cup of tea with his brother. Opening the door with a key he had gotten from the security guard, he couldn't help but ask himself what he had overlooked during his visits.

When the group headed into the spacious apartment, Taiwan took cautious, gentle steps. She felt a sense of distance between her and Hong, standing in his apartment. She didn't recognize anything, and didn't notice anything familiar. Ever since he had been taken away by Britain and since she went with Japan, the two siblings, who used to be close, drifted apart. As Taiwan walked closer to the panoramic window, she let tears drop from her eyes, and wondered why she hadn't tried to get back to how she and Hong were before. Taiwan almost dropped to her knees as she leaned against the glass, thinking that now, she may never get the chance.

South Korea was probably around Hong Kong the most out of the family, if you didn't consider China. He and Hong were really close, well, at least in his mind. When he walked over to Hong's bag, which was lying on the ground, contents strewn around it, the Korean assumed Hong Kong probably wouldn't mind him looking at his things.

Amidst the paperwork and other random papers, were firework designs. He recognized them. Usually, Hong could draw about twenty a day, even while getting all his work done. This time, South Korea only found three, and the third wasn't even completed. Digging deeper, he found Hong's wallet, carelessly left in the folds of papers. The South Korean opened it and found a picture of Hong, with China, himself, Taiwan, and Macau on one side, and England and some other commonwealth countries on the other. This photo was probably cropped from a world meeting photo, but it led South Korea to question what the reasons for Hong Kong's disappearance were. Knowing the other, Hong would never leave his family behind like this, especially if he believed he had two. So why?

China didn't walk around the apartment, didn't pause in the doorway. He walked straight to the couch, where he saw Hong's panda. It was July First. It was a holiday. If Hong ever left his home when it wasn't a workday, his panda would always be with him. Right now, the bear was tucked into a ball, still warm, but unmoving. The panda's being on the couch meant Hong Kong had fallen asleep on the couch. But Hong wasn't there anymore.

The Chinese man knelt on the ground, feeling very tired. Flashes of old memories flashed in his mind. A young Hong Kong running around, smiling happily. A crying Hong Kong being torn away from him. A changed Hong Kong being returned to him. But now, none of it mattered. He was living his worst nightmare. His younger brother had once again been wrenched away from him.

* * *

**Present time.**

By the time China came out of his memories, the meeting room was filled. The members consisted of America, England and France, who were there for Canada, the Oriental Asians, who were there for Hong Kong, and other some other nations, such as Iceland and his family, and Germany and his company, along with Italy, Romano, and Spain, who wanted to help.

Everyone started to talk about anything they may have seen or heard with not much enthusiasm. They shared about any new incidents, or any news on Hong Kong and Canada. It was the same every year. The searches were fruitless, and there weren't any traces of the two missing nations. However, on the bright side, no others had disappeared.

During the reporting stage, everyone was focused on gathering clues from the past year. They didn't notice a Secret Service agent come in, pass two files to America, whisper something in his ear, and leave. The American, after his citizen left, just stared at the two files in his hands. Eventually, England saw that America had stopped talking, and was holding an open folder in shaking hands.

"America, what's going on?" asked the Brit. All eyes in the room turned to the blond American.

"We found them, Arthur," said America, not caring if he used England's personal title. "We finally found them."

* * *

**Somewhere beyond time.**

"_So_ _you finally decided to let them start paying their price?"_

"_I cannot have it drag out for too long."_

"_Everything is set? Are you sure you want it this way?"_

"_They agreed to this, and there is no other way."_

"_You didn't tell them this was their payment."_

"_I didn't tell them it was not."_

"_..."_

"_The procedure has been like this for eons."_

"_It hasn't been used in the same amount of time."_

"_I did not force anyone into this."_

"_I understand. They called. I only wish there was another price."_

"_So do I."_

"_It is painful to watch this method of payment."_

"_... I know."_

* * *

**To be Continued!**

**Thanks for reading this chapter!**

**Reviews are amazing, and Concrit would be a great help.**

**CCM **


	3. Chapter 2: Who and Why

**Sorry about the lateness! I've been busy...**

**Anyways, here's chapter 3!**

**Translations at the bottom. I do not own Hetalia.**

* * *

In his room, Mathieu Lalonde smiled as he saw the e-mail from his friend. Leon, although two years younger, seemed to have known him for so much longer than the three years they've exchanged messages.

_**From: **__Leon C._

_**To: **__Matt L._

_**Subject:**__ Happy Birthday!_

_Hey Matt!_

_Happy Birthday! You've graduated now! You're heading to university this year, so I wanted to get a couple more emails in before you get too busy for me. Have you decided which one you're going to?_

_I know you're continuing with hockey. There's no way you'd drop that. Oh well. We need to meet again sometime before you go to university. BC and Quebec aren't that far apart, right? :p_

_Say hi to Émilie for me, and Happy Eighteenth Birthday!_

_-Leon_

Now smiling even wider, the Quebecois chuckled as he wrote back. He had yet to wish Leon a happy birthday.

_**From: **__Matt L._

_**To: **__Leon C._

_**Subject:**__ Re: Happy Birthday!_

_Leon!_

_Happy Birthday to you too! It's so awesome that we have the same birthday. :)_

_Yes, I have graduated! You still have to go to high school, haha! I'm going to l'Université Laval, right here in la belle ville de Québec. I can stay close to everyone, and I don't have to live in dorms. _

_How did you guess I would continue hockey? Are you psychic? *le Gasp* Leon is so amazing!_

_Let me tell you a secret. My coach told me, the best player on my team *wink*, that we may be going over to BC for a game. I'll confirm it later, but I'm pretty sure we're coming._

_Happy sixteenth birthday! Say hi to Nathaniel, Ryan, Michael, Melody and Melissa for me! (Your family is huge!)_

_-Matt_

* * *

**At the meeting**

The entire room was silent, each person trying to make sense of what America had just said. If it was true, the whole incident would be over, and everything would be back to normal. Out of all the nations though, only England gathered up the courage to ask the question that everyone wanted a confirmation to.

"Found who, America?"

"Them. Canada and Hong Kong." Hearing this, China almost launched himself at the closed folder in the American's hand. Instead, the Chinese slowly walked over and gently took the beige manila away. Within the folder were a couple of sheets, but what held China's attention was not the number of sheets in the folder, but the picture of a young teenager, paper-clipped to the first page.

The photo seemed to be a bit old, but it was his younger brother, without the horrible eyebrows, he noted. This was definitely Hong Kong. "Gege! Where is he?" asked Taiwan, rapidly approaching China from where she had stood moments before.

Scanning through the papers, China replied. "Vancouver, aru." South Korea asked where that was, for he truly did not know. The reply to his question was not given by the Chinese whom he had asked, but by someone else from across the room.

"Canada," said America, before running out of the room in a blind dash. England and France quickly followed, and the Asians were right behind. All the other nations were left behind, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

* * *

America's secret service seemed to know this would happen. Once the countries got outside, there were two helicopters waiting for them. "Best of luck with Hong Kong, China," said England.

"You with Canada as well, ahen," said China, as he started over to the helicopter, where his family was waiting. Once all passengers had boarded, the two helicopters flew off in different directions, one headed for Hong Kong, in Vancouver, and the other for Canada, who was in Quebec City.

The pilots of both helicopters, although in completely different places, felt the same tension from their passengers. This wasn't a fear of heights kind of nervousness. It was the nervousness of an agent on their first mission. Eyes looked rapidly between the cockpit and outside the window. Knuckles gripped seats or the fabric of their pants so hard they turned white. The pilots had seen it all before. However, they wondered why their passengers would be nervous.

The ride heading towards Quebec would have been silent, if it weren't for America's constant toe tapping. He couldn't help it. He knew he should be happy. So why couldn't he shake the restless feeling? He passed it off as excitement, and went back to looking out the window while his shoe repeatedly met the floor of the helicopter.

England and France both gave knowing glances at each other. They put aside their rivalry, and kept from attacking the other. Finding Canada was more important.

* * *

In the other helicopter, the one heading towards Canada's west coast, China was trying to focus on something besides his own unease. Instead, he took a look at his family. South Korea, who was sitting beside him, was gazing off in space, uncharacteristically calm. What was running through his head, China couldn't tell. After Hong Kong had disappeared, South Korea had calmed down a bit, and was now more serious. The impact of losing Hong had changed Korea throughout the years.

The Chinese man then looked at the two younger members of the East Asian family. Macau and Taiwan were actually holding hands, although China knew it was for support, not romance. Searching for something to relieve the tension, Taiwan had probably grabbed on to Macau. When she had, Macau probably squeezed back, because he was looking for the same relief.

The empty seat next to Macau drew China's attention next. That seat could have been occupied Hong Kong, if he had never disappeared. Or it could have been Japan. But Japan would not come into Hong Kong's affairs. During Japan's many attacks on China, the Chinese personification was already experienced as a nation. However, when Japan attacked Hong Kong, the then young Asian had next to no experience. China had been truly scared that Hong would die.

After the war, Japan tried not to come close to Hong, fearing the breaking of any remaining relationship. China wasn't surprised that he hadn't come along. Maybe he just didn't care anymore.

Turning his gaze back outside, China could only think about what would happen when they found Hong.

* * *

America, England, and France, once dropped off at a local airfield, ran to a car that was parked nearby for them. They immediately drove off towards their destination, which turned out to be a normal house, blending right in with the others. It was a nice house, and France couldn't stop himself when he started gushing about how the flowers complimented the colour scheme.

America seemed to have shed all nervousness as he bounced from foot to foot. He was finally getting his brother back!

England scoffed, and moved to ring the doorbell. However, he had forgotten he was in Quebec. When he was greeted by a French speaking woman, he quickly looked at France for help. The Frenchman just smirked, and moved to take England's place.

"Bonjour, madame," said France, "Est-ce que nous pouvons parler à Mathieu?"

"Mathieu? He iz not 'ere right now." The woman looked at France. "Eh… Qui êtes-vous?"

"Nous sommes ses amis." Hearing this, the woman smiled.

"Ah, oui? Est-ce que tu cherches pour mon fils car tu veux lui dire _Happy Birthday_?" The blonde lady laughed. "Il devrait être de la retour. He only went to play hockey with friends, so he should be walking back."

"Merci, madame," Realizing the conversation was done, America and England started walking away from the house, but France stayed behind a bit longer.

"How did you choose ze colour scheme?" he asked.

The woman looked at the flowers on her porch. "Bleu et blanc. It matches ze beautiful flag de Quebec." France smiled, nodded and waved goodbye. So she was a Separatist. How did Canada take that? He couldn't possibly be supporting the breakup of his own country.

* * *

Mathieu whistled to his music as he walked back home. It felt so good to play hockey, especially on his birthday. He would have to email Leon again when he got home. He had confirmed with his friends that they were definitely going to BC.

As he turned the corner, he almost crashed into three men, who looked like they were in a hurry. "Désolé, les gars," he said informally, sidestepping to go around them. Mathieu continued walking, until he could see his house. About to start running the last bit in order to get home faster, he was suddenly stopped by a hand that grabbed onto his shoulder.

"Are you Matthew?" asked the person behind him. Mathieu spun around to see the three men from earlier. They probably thought he was someone else, because if they were looking for him, then they completely destroyed his name.

"Oui, I am Mathieu Lalonde. Who are you?" Right after he finished speaking, one of the men, jumped and engulfed Mathieu in a hug.

"Mattie! I am so happy to see you again! You can't believe how much I've missed you!" The teen had Mathieu in a death grip, and didn't look about to let go.

"Crisse! Let go of me!" Mathieu exclaimed, but he received no reponse. What he got, was a horrified gasp. Another one of the blond men had taken one good look at Mathieu and almost died of shock.

"Where iz your beautiful hair?" he lamented loudly, "Your beautiful French hair!" Mathieu raised an eyebrow. He had cut his hair short a couple months ago so it wouldn't get in his face during hockey. He now had it styled to a peak at the front, and thought this look suited him.

"Canada, where is Alberta*?" asked the third man, with abnormally bushy eyebrows. Mathieu was now completely confused. L'Alberta? Why would this man ask him where Alberta was?

Mathieu couldn't take it. He shoved the person who was hugging him off of his body. "Who are you?" Now it was the three men who looked confused.

"Aren't you Matthew Williams, a.k.a Canada?" The teenaged Quebecois could only look at the men with a looked that clearly asked them if they were crazy.

"Non, I'm Mathieu Lalonde, who will call the police if you don't explain why that man just came up and touched me."

America, England and France were all shocked. The file had said that this was Canada. They had all had the same feeling that this was Canada. There was no way that this teenager was not Canada. "Um, don't you know us, Canada?" England asked hesitantly.

The Quebecois shook his head. "Why are you calling me Canada? I don't know you, and I'm Quebecois. There is a difference between Canadien and Québecois."

The three personifications were completely astounded. If this Mathieu was so adamant about being Quebecois, that meant he would probably be a Separatist, a person for Quebec as its own country. Canada wouldn't be like this at all, but this was Canada, for sure.

America started to laugh. "Stop joking around, Mattie. You need to come back now. Playtime's over." Mathieu only glared at him, and started walking away. England couldn't believe it. This boy was being so rude. He had not taught Canada to grow up this way, and as much as he hated to admit it, neither had France. Grabbing Mathieu by the shoulder, the Brit turned him around and slapped him, not hard, but how he hit to discipline his colonies when back when physical punishment was still acceptable.

"You need to come back to your senses young man. I am in no mood to play games," said England as he glared right back at the teenager in front of him. Mathieu simply pushed forward and did what looked like a check to make England back off and fall.

"I do not know you, and I am not this Matthew Williams. Please stop bothering me." With that, the Quebecois walked a little further, and returned home. The three nations were left stunned and disappointed on the sidewalk. They had been completely confident that this Mathieu Lalonde was Canada. Now they weren't sure at all.

* * *

Inside his house, Mathieu took off his shoes, dumped his bag on the floor and went towards the couch in his living room. His cheek stung where the man had hit him. He honestly had no idea who those people were, or why they were looking for him.

"Mathieu!" called his mother from the kitchen. "Trois hommes ont demandé pour toi! Est-ce que tu as rencontré ces personnes ? "

Mathieu was about to reply, when a spell of dizziness made him collapse onto the couch. The last thing he saw was his mother heading towards him, looking worried while shouting his name.

* * *

When the helicopter arrived in Vancouver, the Asians quickly got in a SUV that had been prepared for them and drove to the address already loaded on the GPS. The occupants of the vehicle had to admit that America's men really knew how to prepare things, even if he himself didn't.

The car cruised through the suburbs, arriving at a rather nice neighbourhood. Taiwan, who was driving, parked the car a little way down the street, not wanting to charge directly onto a driveway. The group of four exited their vehicle and walked down the street. The houses were definitely for people who were higher than middle class. Not necessarily millionaires, but they had to be successful. The houses were grand, the lots large, and some even had gates in front of their driveway.

Thankfully, the house they needed to go to did not have a gate. Macau led the way up the walk and to the front door. Taking a breath, he pushed the intercom button with a slightly shaky hand. Instead of getting a maid's voice as a reply, the door swung open, revealing a fourteen year old boy.

"What," he said. The four Asians looked at the boy. He looked a bit like Hong, but not entirely. As the countries stared, the boy seemed to get irritated. "I'm closing this door if you don't tell me what you want."

Taiwan snapped out of it, and spoke first. "Is there someone named Leon here?" The boy rolled his eyes, and turned his head into his house.

"啊哥! Some people are looking for you!" Standing outside, the group heard the opening of a door, and footsteps coming down the stairs. As the footsteps neared, the sound of giggling children also grew louder. Happy shouts and laughs came closer and closer, until the door was pulled back by an older teen with three kids hanging off his legs. Two girls on one, a boy on the other. His hair draped over the left side of his face, hiding half of his black rimmed glasses underneath brown strands with blond highlights. Leon Cheng stood behind his younger brother, looking at the group outside. Said group looked at Leon, knowing that for sure this was Hong Kong, even though he appeared different.

"We got you! We got you!" The children laughed and chanted as they hung onto the older boy's legs. With gentle hands, Leon reached down and removed his younger brother and sisters off of him.

"I'll play later, okay?" The girls pouted, and the boy sighed, but they nodded as they returned in the house, chasing each other around. The older boy then turned to the visitors in front of his house. "Hello," he said, "Did you need me for something?"

China, South Korea, Taiwan and Macau could not believe their eyes. Was that Hong? Smiling? What sorcery was this? Hong Kong was supposed to be emotionless. And who were the kids? Honestly, this Leon looked no more than sixteen. There was no way he could already be a dad.

Leon put his hand on top of his brother's head, and whispered for him to go look after the others. The teen who had originally opened the door glanced at his older brother before disappearing back into the house. Now, only the oldest remained. "Um, hello? You guys rang the doorbell, right?" Leon laughed. "All of you look too old to be playing pranks, so you must have something to say."

After a couple seconds of silence, China broke it. "Do you remember me, Hong?" he asked.

"How am I supposed to remember you if I've never met you?" replied Leon lightly. China looked at Leon carefully, trying to see if he was lying or not. Taiwan's face radiated shock, and Macau and South Korea both wore identical surprised faces. "Anyways, my name's Leon, not Hong. There are a lot of Asians down this street. I think you got the wrong house."

Leon took a step back into his house, and started to close the door. "I hope you find your friend! Have a nice day." The door to the Cheng household was closing, and China, Taiwan, and Macau did not know how to react. However, South Korea did. He stuck his foot right in between the door and the doorframe, flung the door open, and grabbed Leon by the shoulders. His best friend, no, his brother was this close after almost twenty years. He wouldn't let him disappear again.

"HONG! You're HONG KONG! Why don't you remember?!" Leon looked completely confused, and shocked by the outburst. He appeared to be panicking.

"I'm sorry! I really don't know who you're looking for!" Leon tried to get South Korea off his shoulders but the Korean's grip only increased. China and Macau were now trying to pull their brother off of Leon, but both did not succeed.

Hearing the noise, another boy had come downstairs. His eyes widened when he saw his older brother being grabbed and shaken. "Nate! Come here!" In a second, the boy who opened the door was back, and Leon's two younger siblings were tugging Leon away from South Korea.

"Yong Soo! Stop it! STOP!" The shout came from Taiwan, who was standing outside, small sniffles coming from behind sleeves that hid her face. "He doesn't know, Yong Soo. Leave him be."

The Korean immediately released his grip, and Leon fell back onto his brothers. The two sides stared at each other before Taiwan began to speak softly. "I'm sorry for all the trouble. We'll be leaving now." Macau pulled a defeated South Korean out the door, and China followed afterwards.

Leon did not seem to be getting up, so one of his brothers, Nate, stood and closed the door. The Asian personifications started away from the house and towards their car. Once inside, China, who was in the driver's seat because Taiwan was not fit to drive, did not immediately start the car. Instead, he leaned back and closed his eyes as he listened to Taiwan's soft sobs and Korea's punches against the dashboard. He fought back his own tears and frustration and tried giving a small smile to Macau, who was sitting behind him. The glasses wearing personification tried to smile back, but it soon wavered. Macau and China looked away from each other.

That did not go how they had wanted it to go.

* * *

Back inside the Cheng household, Nathan did not know what to do. He had sent Ryan to settle the kids after the strangers had left, but his older brother was still sitting on the floor, staring with wide-eyes at the door.

"Leon! Can you hear me?" Nathan was getting scared, although he would never admit it. Leon wasn't answering him. Was this how people acted once they turned sixteen? "Leon!"

The older teen finally blinked, and slowly stood up. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, "Just let me go upstairs and-" Leon didn't finish his sentence before he crumpled back to the ground, unconscious.

"啊哥!"Nathan quickly grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and called his parents.

* * *

_Mathieu and Leon both woke up surrounded by a white space. It was familiar. It was the same as… as… They couldn't remember. They two friends looked at each other and tried to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, a voice rumbled through both their heads._

"_Let us begin. This will be the first of many. May you both be safe."_

_The two teenagers were confused, but before they got the chance to reach out to one another, they were ripped apart and flung into pitch black emptiness._

**To be Continued!**

* * *

**Translations:**

_**French**_

_Bonjour, madame :_ Hello Madam.

_Est-ce que nous pouvons parler à Mathieu ? : _Can we speak to Mathieu ?

_Qui êtes-vous?:_ Who are you ?

_Nous sommes ses amis. : _We are his friends.

_Est-ce que tu cherches pour mon fils car tu veux lui dire Happy Birthday?: _ Are you looking for my son so that you can tell him Happy Birthday ?

_Bleu et Blanc : _Blue and White.

_Il devrait être du retour. : He should be returning._

_Merci, madame : _Thank you, Madam.

_**Chinese**_

啊哥/Gege: Brother

**xxxxxxxxx**

**List of siblings (oldest to youngest):**

**Leon  
**

(Leon), Nathan, Ryan, Michael, Melissa and Melody. (the girls are twins)

**Mathieu**

Alexandre, (Mathieu), Émilie

**xxxxxxxxxx**

***I made Canada's glasses Alberta *shot*. It's because of the oil! (Like Texas!)**

**xxxxxxxxxx**

**Reviews and Constructive Criticism! I would love either one or both!**

**Thanks for Reading! **

**CCM. **


	4. Chapter 3: Glimpses and Reactions

**Hello! I'm not dead guys!**

**I'm sorry this took so long... School's been harsh.**

**For any of you with problems with the format, I'll be try something else besides "focusing on two sides at once".**

**Translations are at the bottom, and I don't own Hetalia.**

**So, here we go!**

* * *

_As fast as he was thrown into the blackness, Mathieu was spit out. He landed, but not against the ground. Looking down at himself, the blond saw that he was translucent, and hovered just above the grass. Taking a couple steps, but leaving no footprints, Mathieu raised his head. He squinted against the bright sunlight, radiating from above. Everything seemed kind of hazy as he observed it._

_Mathieu did not recognise where he was, so when he saw a man call out to someone while walking by, the Quebecois decided to follow him. The man was dressed funnily, in a tunic with pants and a heavy cloak. His hair was long, longer than hair Mathieu had ever seen on a man. This was getting weirder and weirder._

"_Marteinn! Where are you?"__ A young man in what seemed like his early twenties looked up from his woodwork. Even from a few metres away from where Mathieu was standing, the young man's blond hair caught the sun and shone as he shifted his attention to the other man calling him.__ Mathieu glanced at Marteinn's face and took a step back. This looked like an older version of himself!_

"_Yes __faðir?" asked Marteinn. Mathieu didn't recognise the language, but could guess the word father._

"_It has been decided. We are leaving Vinland very soon," said the person Mathieu had followed. Marteinn looked shocked. _

"_Why? I have already come to love this place." When Mathieu heard that, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia. The next time Marteinn opened his mouth, so did he. _

"_This is my home, my land," whispered Mathieu. He was synchronised with Marteinn, who had said the same words to his father with adamant strength. "Here, I will stay."_

_The Quebecois caught himself, and took a few hover steps back. Why had he said that? How had he known what to say? As Mathieu thought about it, his surroundings twisted and changed._

_He was now__ standing at the edge of a forest, watching a ship come in. Mathieu noticed a young child holding a white bear, but the blond child did not see him. _

_The ship grew nearer, and when it docked, Mathieu felt the child flinch. He found that he could __**feel **__what the young boy was thinking, as he had with Marteinn. Nothing made sense anymore. Mathieu officially had no idea what was going on. 'I give up,' he thought, 'I can't figure this out.' The Quebecois sighed, and turned to the young boy, who again, looked…like…him. The blonde shook his head, trying to clear off all the crazy theories that could prove this moment either fascinating, or just plain creepy. _

_Mathieu heard mumbles coming from the boy, and stopped thinking in order to hear him. The child seemed to be looking at the name of the boat, and trying to say it. "Ma- Mat-Ma-" The child, not unlike how Mathieu was a few moments earlier, gave up. The Quebecois looked over at the makeshift docking site and made out the name of the boat. The Matthew. Mathieu turned back to the small boy to see if he had heard him through his thoughts, but the boy was gone. _

_Everything else was fading too._

_The blonde blinked, and looking closer, he saw that his surroundings were not fading out. They were moving past him. Scenes unknown to him floated by. In one, a man was bending over the child from before, patting his small head and laughing good-naturedly. The image was whisked away, replaced by another man who had his back turned to him and was smiling at a different child. _

_When that image moved as well, glimpses of other things passed by. Rioting people, burning houses, the occasional calm picture of a coastal landscape. Everything kept going, until the last picture. It displayed war, trenches filled with bodies, used artillery, and unidentifiable horror. Sounds of distant shells and deathly cries filled the teen's ears. Soldiers trudged through mud, some falling, some holding appendages. Mathieu stood there, eyes growing wider every second as he watched everything go by._

"_Why… WHY?" He dropped to his knees, eyes wide in horror. What was happening to him? Why was he seeing this? Mathieu let out a hoarse cry, although he wasn't sure he made any sound at all._

* * *

"Mathieu! Mathieu!"

Said Quebecois slowly opened his eyes, and found his mother's face right above his. He was pulled immediately into a tight hug, and looking over his mother's shoulder, he saw his dad, sister and brother all looking at him worriedly.

"J'suis d'accord," said Mathieu, releasing himself from his mother's grip. Marie Lalonde stared at her son for a quick second before getting up.

"Je vais préparer le diner, " she said. " Viens, Émilie." Mathieu's sister followed their mother out, and with a quick glance at his son, so did Jacques Lalonde. Left in the room, the brothers of the Lalonde family stayed in silence for a short while.

"You know, maman was really worried," said Mathieu's older brother.

"J'sais," replied Mathieu, "Otherwise she would have never called you home, Alex."

The older blonde just laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "T'es observateur, p'tit frère," said Alexandre. "Mais, j'suis aussi. Something is bothering you, Mathieu."

"I promise, it's nothing. Worried about university, that's all it is." Mathieu and Alexandre stared at each other, both trying to convince the other of their argument.

The older eventually gave in. "Alright, but if anything happens, you come talk to me." The blonde lying on the bed gave his brother a nod, and received a pat on the head. Mathieu pulled the blankets up higher, and he watched the door shut as his older brother left the room.

Now by himself, he closed his eyes, and thought back. He realised that the men that he had seen towards the end of his dream were the ones who had come to find him. The Quebecois was sure he had never met these people before.

"Dormir et tu les oublieras," said Mathieu to himself. "Sleep and forget."

He just hoped there would be no more dreams like the one just now.

* * *

**Vancouver, BC**

When his parents burst through the door, Nathan was sitting beside Leon, who was propped up beside him, still unconscious. In one swift movement, Mr. Wong had picked up his eldest son and was heading upstairs to his room.

"What happened?" asked Mrs. Wong, squatting next to her second eldest son.

Nathan shrugged and opened his mouth to reply nonchalantly, but found tears welling up behind his eyes. He looked quickly to the doorway that led outside, then down the hallway that led into the house to make sure there was no one else around.

Now sure that there was no one else to see him, he wrapped his arms around his mother's neck and started to cry. "People came, and- and they tried grabbing Lee, and me and Ryan p-pulled back and we fell and they l-left and Lee said he was okay b-but he wasn't, and he fell and then, and then I called you." Nathan was shaking and stuttering as he told the story, and Elena Wong could do nothing but hug her son back.

"Mom, what if L-Leon doesn't wake up?" The brown haired woman pulled back and looked at Nathan.

"He will be fine," she said reassuringly, "Now, go get washed up and take a break. You handled this well."

The teen nodded, brushed away the tears and went upstairs with his mother.

Leon would be alright. This little thing couldn't take away his brother for a very long time.

* * *

"_Am I in another dream?" asked Leon quietly to himself. He was standing on the beach, where the sunlight was reflecting off the water. A small child was beside him, sitting on the sand, letting the waves lap at his feet._

_Feeling strange because of the difference in his and the child's perspective, he sat down as well. However, when the water came up to him, it passed right through him. 'Definitely a dream,'__thought the teen as he stared out to sea. The young boy beside him was doing the exact same thing, looking at nothing in particular, but at everything at once. _

_The child looked no older than four years old, but his parents were nowhere in sight. What was he doing in the middle of the beach?_

"_你的爸爸妈妈呢？__" __asked Leon in Cantonese. When he didn't get an answer, he moved in front of the child. The child's demeanor did not change. 'So he can't see me, huh?' The teenager shrugged. That was a pity. He wanted to tell the boy how much they looked alike, which would be redundant if he couldn't see him or hear him._

_Leon did not know how much time had passed during the time he sat on the beach, so when he heard footsteps come from behind, he realised he had been there for a decent amount of time. Why hadn't he woken up yet?_

"_小孩子, 你自己坐在这里做什么啊？" __The person from behind caught the child's attention although they spoke in Mandarin. _

"_我在看海__,__" he replied. The man, although Leon could not make out his face, seemed to smile._

"_你叫什么名字？" __Although the man asked another question, the boy did not seem fazed by this stranger._

"_黄家龙__。" __The man shook his head at the child's response, and his ponytail swayed._

"_你__真__的名字是什么？" __The child stared at the man. When he spoke, it was soft, almost as if he was scared of his own answer._

"_我__是 –"_

_Leon never heard the end of the sentence. Before he got to hear it, he was pulled away into another scene. He was now in a place he did not know, in a room with a four posted bed. A shape sat at the desk with his back towards him. Assuming that he could not be seen or heard, Leon walked forward to take a look at the younger boy._

_It was the same child from the beach, only a bit older. 'This is a very weird dream,' Leon thought as he shook his head. _

_Looking at what the boy was doing, he saw a book of English vocabulary and many blank pieces of paper. An ink bottle lay off to the side with a fountain pen and quill. He heard mumbles from the child, whose head was buried in his arms._

"_阿哥，你为什么要交我给英国？" __England? What did Europe have to do with this?_

_Leon reached out for the child, but again, he was brought away. This time, he found himself in a dark room. It smelled of dirt and something rotten. In the middle was again the same child, now appearing about 10. He was blindfolded and tied up, but it seemed irrelevant. The child did not seem to move anyways. _

_The door creaked open with the sound of rusted hinges, and light streamed in. A man walked in, wearing a military uniform, and stood next to the boy, towering over him. He lashed out his foot, and the boy was sent flying across the room, landing with a sick thud. In the light, Leon saw that the boy had tears streaming down his face. A sudden feeling of horrible nostalgia came upon the teenager._

"_我求你。 我求你,停啊。" __The man simply looked at the boy, walked over, and kicked him again._

_Leon sank down, clutching his stomach, tears streaming, as he tried to block out the sound of boot hitting flesh and the retching sounds made by the child. He couldn't take it._

"_Stop. Stop it. STOP!"_

* * *

Leon bolted upright in his bed, clutching his blankets like a lifeline. Those were not his memories. It wasn't anything he had seen before either. What was going on?

The man with the ponytail in the first part of the dream. He had been one of the people at the door. Why were they looking for him? He just a normal sixteen year old who went to school, hung out with friends and helped around his parents' restaurant. He was just Leon Cheng.

Right?

* * *

**Washington D.C, United States**

"Ja. Ja. Alright. I understand. Danke." Germany hung up his call with America's secret service and turned to address the rest of the nations.

"It vas unsuccessful. It does not seem to be zem." There was an immediate negativity that dropped into the room. "The others will not be coming back to join us. You are free to go."

Nations exited the room slowly. So it was another bust. They couldn't say they didn't expect it. Twenty years had gone by without any information. What are the odds that Hong Kong and Canada would turn up?

Maybe it was time to consider quitting the fruitless search. Maybe it was okay to move on.

However, no matter what fleeting thought came, every single nation there still hung on to that little bit of hope in finding their lost friends.

* * *

_Two figures in white leaned back from what they were looking at and sighed._

"_You know, monitoring this gets tiring, and it makes me sad," said one._

"_You started this, you see it through to the end," was the reply._

"_I obviously did not think about the work behind this."_

"_We warned you. All of us did."_

"_Sure. Say what makes you happy."_

"…_I have known you for the longest time, and yet do not understand why you are serious at the most random of times."_

"_It is because I am…"_

"_Don't say it."_

"_Because I am…"_

"_Don't say it."_

"_BECAUSE I AM I-"_

_The sound of a heavy smack echoed in the surrounding area. Attracted by the commotion, more figures appeared. They all shook their heads._

"_They never change."_

* * *

**Translations!**

**Old Norse**

_Faðir: _Father

**French/Canadian French/ Attempt at Quebecois**

_J'suis d'accord _: I am alright.

_Je vais préparer le diner _: I will go prepare dinner.

_Viens, Émilie : _Come, _Émilie._

_J'sais :_ I know

_T'es observateur, p'tit frère : _You're observant, little brother.

_Mais, j'suis aussi. :_ But, so am I.

_Dormir et tu les oublieras : _Sleep, and you'll forget.

**Chinese **

_你的爸爸妈妈呢__？_: Where are your parents?

_小孩子,__你自己坐在这里做什么啊__？__:_ Child, what are you doing, sitting there alone?

_我在看海__,_: I am looking at the sea.

_你叫什么名字？__: _What is your name?

_黄家龙__。__: _ Wong Ka Long/ Huang Jia Long (It's a name)

_你__真__的名字是什么？__:_ What is your real name?

_我是 –__: _I am-

_阿哥，你为什么要交我给英国？__:_ Brother, why did you give me to England?

_我求你。 我求你,停啊。__: _I beg you. I beg you, stop.

* * *

**And there's chapter 3!**

**I'm sorry if it seems short...**

**Review if you like it, review if you're confused (feel free to ask) or if you want to complain about something, or offer constructive criticism!**

**Flame if you feel it is a must.**

**I will try to work faster!**

**Peace,**

**CantoCookieMonster**


	5. Chapter 4: Plans and Meetings

**Hello!**

**I'M NOT DEAD GUYS! DON'T FORGET ME!**

**Sorry this took so long.**

**Translations are at the bottom. If my overuse of French bugs anyone just tell me so. I apologize for abuse of linebreaks.**

**I don't own Hetalia! Let's go!**

* * *

China sat outside his house on an ancient Chinese styled veranda, drinking tea. It seemed to be the only thing he could do without thinking of- No, nothing could distract him from thinking about Leon Cheng's reaction from the day before. The boy clearly had no recollection of anything that could have proved him to be Hong Kong. China was depressed, although he would not admit it.

However, England had experienced the same result with Canada, so he comforted himself, knowing Hong wasn't the only one left missing.

When the doorbell rang after a while of sitting, China did not rush, for he was in no mood to deal with anyone. He took his time setting down his tea, getting up, and finally arriving at the door. With one swift movement, he opened the door. For a moment, he stared at England, who was standing awkwardly on the other side of the threshold. In the same way he had opened the way into his home, he brought the door swinging back.

"Wait, China!" The Chinese man, being the reasonable and level-headed person he was, left the door open just a crack and peered out of it.

"What do you want, ahen?" asked China, not caring if he sounded impatient. He was in no mood to talk.

"Um, I just wanted to talk-" England was interrupted by the slamming of the door. He had no choice. Abandoning his gentlemanly pride, he resorted to one of the most embarrassing things he would ever do in public. Shout outside someone's house. "China! I just want to talk about Hong Kong and Canada!"

The Brit was met with silence, and with a sigh, he turned around and started to walk away. What he did not expect was a hand shooting out of the house, grabbing him by the back of his collar and yanking him inside. "I hope you don't mind Chinese tea," said the Chinese nation as he walked into his house, leaving England to settle himself and readjust his collar.

Once he had taken off his shoes, the western country went the same way that China had before, leading him further into the Chinese's home. He hadn't been here in a while. His relations with China had never been the best after the entire opium incident. The only thing keeping them from tearing out each other's throats had been Hong Kong. England slowly took a seat beside China, crossed legged, on the wooden veranda. He picked up the small cup of tea poured out for him, reluctantly, no doubt. He still thought English tea was better.

"So?" asked China after taking a sip of his tea. "Are you going to say something, ahen? Or should I just make you leave?"

"Oh, right," England stared at the cup in his hand, and the tea leaves beginning to settle at the bottom. "It wasn't Canada."

The oriental personification looked thoughtful as he hummed in acknowledgement. "I know. I heard from America."

"That git sent out an email? Bloody hell, why not just announce it to the entire world?"

"Technically, he did." England sighed at China's remark, and forced a somewhat smile at the sarcasm. Another sip of tea was taken before the European spoke again.

"I heard Hong Kong was no good either." The other man didn't reply, but by the tightening of China's fingers around the white and blue porcelain, England guessed it was true. This disheartened England, for he had hoped that at least one of the missing would have been found.

"It was him, but at the same time, it was not." China's words described both situations perfectly. The two sat in silence for a while, both thinking about the past twenty years, how people have changed, and sadly, how some things have stayed the same, even with Hong Kong and Canada gone. They had no idea why the two young personifications had disappeared, and noticed they had never really thought about it.

"Hey China, why do you think those two left?" asked the Briton.

"I don't know, ahen," replied China, "It could have been their choice." England had never thought about that. He had always thought Canada and Hong Kong disappeared due to completely unknown circumstances that were occurring in their countries or regions in conspicuously.

"Their own choice, huh?" muttered the Brit softly. A decision. An independent choice.

England smiled wryly at China. "You would think we would be used to people leaving us of their own will by now."

* * *

**Quebec, A week later**

The sound of the doorbell interrupted the serenity of the Lalonde household. Marie stared at the batter she was making, which now had an extra load of sugar in it due to the ringing. She had dropped it in by accident. The maternal figure of the Lalonde family could only sigh as she wiped her hands, preparing to open the door. Half way through the knot of her apron, she heard rapid descending footsteps, and found that Mathieu had arrived in the front hall earlier than her. That could only mean one thing.

"Anna!" exclaimed Mathieu as he threw open the door. _"Qu'est ce que tu fais ici?_" A brunette stood outside, hands on her hips, intelligent eyes accompanied by a slight pout. Looking at Mathieu right in the eyes, she reached up and lightly smacked him across the head.

"_Qu'est ce que je fais? T'as oublié notre anniversaire de quatre ans."_ The brunette slipped her hand into Mathieu's, and they met for a quick kiss.

"_Hé! Pas dans la maison!" _shouted Mathieu's mother, who was coming down the hall.

The two teens quickly let go, both blushing from their cheeks to the tips of their ears. Marie laughed as she approached. "_Merci, Anna, pour ces quatre ans_. I know my son can be stupid."

Anna blushed. "_Non, madame! _I am lucky that Mathieu chose a simple girl like me!" Mathieu pulled his girlfriend into a hug, and swept her further out.

"We're not in ze house, maman!" said Mathieu cheekily as he nestled his face into Anna's hair.

"_Allez!" _cried his mother while smiling at the two. "_Amusez-vous!"_

Mathieu and Anna both smiled brightly at Marie before walking away hand in hand towards the nearby park.

* * *

"So what have you been doing lately, Mathieu?" asked Anna as they walked slowly down the sidewalk.

"Some unexpected things came up, Anna. _Je suis désolé que j'ai oublié_." Mathieu let out a weary sigh. A lot had happened on his birthday, and he had completely forgotten anything he had to do in the last week. Seeing the blond lost in thought, the brunette brought her hands to her boyfriend's face and held his gaze.

"Are you going to tell me?" It was not a command, though Mathieu was not about to refuse. He brought his hand up to hers, and leaned into it.

"Yeah, I will."

* * *

The couple was sitting on a bench at the park, drinking the iced coffee that they had bought from a nearby café. As they sat in silence, Anna was digesting what Mathieu had told her. "On your birthday, three men who you have never seen before came up and started questioning you, then you got sick and fainted." Mathieu had chosen not to mention the dream.

"I did not faint. I passed out," he retorted, "What, you don't believe me?"

"Non, non, it's just that it seems really random," replied Anna, "Were they really looking for you?"

"I think they got the wrong person," sighed Mathieu. "They way they said my name was wrong, and the last name wasn't right either."

The brunette squeezed her boyfriend's hand. "_Je suis heureuse que rien de sérieux a passé._"

"_Moi aussi_." The two sat comfortably side by side, enjoying the time that they could spend together. Mathieu usually had a lot of hockey practice, and Anna would be working or volunteering, so there wouldn't be much time to be together. When they first started going out in ninth grade, everyone had said that it wouldn't last. They were complete opposites. Anna was dedicated to studying and helping others, while Mathieu was all about hockey. No one believed their relationship would go all through high school and continue through to university.

The brunette and the blond talked about university and their memories of high school as the afternoon went by. Everything seemed perfect.

However, there is always Murphy's law. What can go wrong, will go wrong. Anna had spotted a man looking completely lost, who had been wandering around for a long time. Getting up to help him, she was immediately pulled down by Mathieu. "He looks dangerous, Anna. Just stay here."

The brunette shook her head. "He needs help, Matt." She started up again, but Mathieu pulled and stood up instead.

"I'll go. Who knows what that guy might do to you." After receiving a thank you from his girlfriend, Mathieu walked towards the man. He had short blonde hair that looked like it flipped up at the front, a blue and white striped scarf, and a tan coat that looked rather heavy. It was July, in the middle of the summer, and he was wearing a scarf and a coat. Mathieu immediately deemed the man crazy.

However, he had promised his Anna that he would help the man, and so he would. "Um hello?"

The man spun, and ultimately seemed surprised that he was there. Mathieu noticed that the man was rather tall, had a scar on his forehead, and smelled faintly of flowers. "_Est-ce que tu es perdu_?" The taller blonde thought about it, and nodded. He spoke in a slow, broken French, as if he hadn't used it in ages.

"Je…essaie de tr…trouver le … palais de….uh… congrès." He said in a low voice.

Seeing that the man could barely speak French, Mathieu opted for English. "Go out from here turn left, the right at the intersection and left again. That should leave you in front of an information centre." The tall blond nodded.

"May I ask your name?" asked the man with a european accent.

"Mathieu. _Et tu_?"

"Lars. Merci pour… l'assiss…tance." With that, the man left, leaving Mathieu to wonder who the man was as he walked back towards the bench where Anna was waiting.

* * *

The representative of Netherlands had not expected to meet the person who was supposed to be Canada so soon. Lars actually did not need to go to the convention centre. The question had been one backed by panic, using the limited amount of French he actually remembered from Belgium and Luxembourg's last minute lessons.

Besides, he had just arrived in the city, being one of a couple nations sent to the cities of the two teenagers on Operation Secret Retrieval. It was something decided quickly, planned by England, China, and Germany at a meeting a day ago.

* * *

**Flashback, the day before - London, in England's house.**

_England, China, and Germany looked at the people gathered for the emergency meeting. Korea sat silently beside a window, a blank expression on his face, oddly similar to Japan, who was seated on the other side of the room. Taiwan talked quietly with Macau, while Iceland sat uncomfortably next to Prussia and France, who were poking the Icelandic teen and playing with his hair. Netherlands and Russia stood forebodingly at the back as they waited for the last couple nations to arrive._

_Finally, America ran in through the door, the force of the door whipping open knocking over a nearby vase._

_England sighed. "That was from the Victorian era…"_

"_Doesn't matter, man! You have too many anyways!" exclaimed America. The rest of the nations just shook their heads at the blond and turned their attention to the three standing in front of them all._

"_As you all know," said Germany, "Ve have located Hong Kong and Kanada."_

"_However, it does not really appear to be them, aru," explained China with a little sadness in his voice._

"_So we have come up with a plan, involving those with major memories concerning either Canada or Hong Kong," announced England._

_With instruction from Germany, the nations quickly formed themselves into two groups, one for Canada, one for Hong Kong. "You vill go to the cities ze teens are located in, and become involved in their lives __**inconspicuously**__." The German man stressed the word inconspicuously as he stared intentionally at America, France, Russia, Korea, and his brother. "Vhatever the two teenagers gain from this will confirm vhether zhey are who ve are looking for."_

"_We'll go to the end of summer, aru," announced the Chinese nation as he handed out papers. "Your roles and instructions are on the sheets. Please follow them." Again, he looked pointedly at the same men Germany did before. _

"_If it's not them, then we look again." England was in the middle of a stare down with America, because the American's role was to wait, and goodness knows the limits of America's patience. The evidence: everything he ever did. "You may all go prepare. Again, please follow the instructions." The nations gripped their sheets tightly and headed out the door. _

_China, after most of the nations had gone, reached out and put a hand on Japan's shoulder to hold him back. "Be careful, aru," said the Chinese. "I don't want anything coming back faster than he can accept." Japan winced inside, but simply nodded. _

_England, outside, was having a similar talk with America. "Remember, he's not Canada yet. He won't be able to handle it." America clenched his hands and teeth, and started away. There was no way he was waiting anymore than he had to. "America! You'll break him!" The Brit's outburst did nothing to affect the North American. _

_Netherlands, who had hung back to ask a question, watched as America walked past him angrily, obviously heading home as fast as possible to think of his own plan, which would be better than "anything old England could come up with". However, the Dutch man could care less for what America planned to do. He needed to address England or China with the fact that he was going to Quebec with little to no skills in French._

* * *

Netherlands realized that he hadn't even noticed Mathieu at first. All he had seen was a normal teenager, smiling happily at his girlfriend, talking openly about things going on in life. Lars saw no characteristics of a nation in this child. There was no hidden meaning behind his words, no century old pain masked by his eyes or his smile. Everything about this Mathieu Lalonde was 100% human.

The Dutch nation ran his hand through his short gelled hair. He needed to get back to the hotel. It was getting way too hot outside.

* * *

**Vancouver**

Leon looked at himself in the mirror, deciding to tie up his hair at the back, leving his bangs draping over one lens of his glasses. First day of summer courses, not that he was failing anything. Fast-tracking was everything around his school, and he wanted to finish the easy courses faster anyways. He came out of the bathroom and was immediately latched onto by his twin younger sisters.

"Leeeeeee! Play with us!" exclaimed Melody, who wore bright blue.

"Pleeeease!" cried Melissa, dressed in bright pink. Leon laughed.

"啊美, 啊丽，I have to go to school." The two seemed shocked.

"But it's summer! Nate and Ry and Mikey and us don't have school!" Leon shuffled closer to the stairs while trying to explain summer school and calm down his sisters. However, it was too late. They had woken up the rest of the Cheng siblings. Three boys came out of their rooms, yawning and wondering why there was screaming at eight in the morning.

"Good morning," said Ryan. Michael nodded in agreement while hiding behind his older brother.

"What? Lee, why haven't you left for school yet?" asked Nathan, responsible even when he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and his boxers. The eldest of the family just looked down at his own legs, where two hyperactive girls were hanging.

"I can't get down the stairs," said Leon, bending down only to have his hands slapped away by his sisters. Ryan and Nathan moved closer, swiftly grabbing both girls off Leon's legs. With sounds of protest in the background, Leon ran down the stairs, grabbed a piece of bread from the kitchen and went to the garage, locking the door behind him. He really needed to get out of the bed earlier to avoid the twins. The Asian teen wheeled his bicycle out of the garage, and hopped on it, heading toward the high school.

Halfway there, as he passed the nearby convenience store, Leon suddenly had the feeling someone was watching him. Braking immediately, he looked around, but saw nothing. The brunet shook it off and kept riding. It relaxed him from all the craziness at home and at his parents' restaurant, where he helped out.

As Leon pulled up in front of the school, he noticed that even though most students going to the summer courses should be from his school, there was someone he had never seen before. Coming up behind the stranger, he tapped him on the shoulder. The other student immediately jumped and turned around; relaxing slightly when he saw it wasn't some burly bully that had spotted him.

"What?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

"Are you new here?" asked Leon in reply. When the answer was affirmative, he smiled. "I'll show you the way. Which course?"

"Eleventh Grade Math." The student did not seem very excited, but the Asian was, for he had the same class. He motioned for the other boy to follow him, leading the way in. They arrived at the classroom and walked in. Immediately, Leon recognised his friends huddled by the windows. He decided to leave them for now, and take a seat with the new student instead, on the other side of the room. When Leon asked the student for his name, he was ignored, but the Asian didn't stress about it. He would find out during attendance anyways.

The teacher came in, signaling for all students to take their seats. As names were called, Leon patiently waited for the boy to reply to the teacher's call. "Emil Steilsson!" The new student raised his hand. Everyone turned to look at the boy whose name they hadn't heard before, and were all surprised by his pale hair.

"What?" he said while starting to redden. "It's not that weird." He had an accent, which through a couple questions, was found out to be Icelandic. The teacher settled the class, seeing Emil's discomfort at being questioned.

The teacher continued on his way down the attendance. "Leon Wong!" Leon replied with a vocal confirmation that he was present, and was about to grab a pencil from his backpack when the new student, Emil, poked him.

"You're Leon?" the Icelandic asked.

"The one and only," replied the Asian. "No, technically, there's a couple more, but I am one of them."

"But your hair is long and you smiled and you're talking without being sarcastic in every word." Emil stared at the Asian with disbelief.

"Yes, I am a human being if that is what you want to know." Leon laughed his usual carefree laugh. "I have the feeling you expected me to be different. I am totally human, no more, no less. Leon Cheng at your service."

As Leon took out a pencil to take notes while the teacher explained the workings of the summer course, the Icelandic nation stared in shock at the very fact that the supposed Hong Kong had just laughed and answered his question without being utterly confusing.

* * *

_**From: **__Matt L._

_**To: **__Leon C._

_**Subject:**__ How are you doing?_

_Hey Leon!_

_I was just wondering how you were doing over there in Vancouver. You said you were going to summer school right? If you ever have any trouble with it, don't hesitate to ask. _

_I have something crazy to tell you! Well, two things. Number one: Someone was wearing a scarf and a heavy coat in the park when I was out in the park with Anna. It was 26 degrees outside. I don't know how he survived._

_Number Two: Three creepy men came up to me like they knew me and one slapped me. Crazy right? I don't know if it was a prank or something. Other things happened after too, which is why it took me so long to send out this email. But everything is okay now! Don't worry!_

_Bonne chance pendant tes classes! _

_-Matt_

_XxxxxxxxxxxxX_

_**From: **__Leon C._

_**To: **__Matt L._

_**Subject:**__ Re: How are you doing?_

_I'm doing fine!_

_Wow, that sounds really tough. I bet you forgot your anniversary. Anna must really love you to not break up with you._

_Thanks for the offer, but I think my math is better than yours, considering you almost failed your course, am I right? _

_That reminds me, something like that happened to me too! Instead I got five people at my door. One of them got kind of violent, and I panicked. Thank goodness Nate was mature enough to handle it. I had a weird dream after though, and I'm starting to wonder whether I should see a doctor. But, it's not that serious, and I haven't gotten the dream again, so yeah._

_Hey, give me the dates you're coming to Vancouver, alright? I want to make sure I'm free so we can hang out before you forget me in university! I met a new friend from Iceland anyways. You're going to get replaced!_

_Don't make Anna worry about you too much!_

_-Leon_

* * *

**Washington D.C.**

America paced back and forth in his room, staring at the instructions he had been given. Why was he one of the only ones who had to wait? The American sat down at his desk with a paper and pen and started scribbling madly. "Who cares what England says. Nations don't break, I mean, look at me."

Satisfied with his plan, he sat back in his chair. He was going to get his brother back his own heroic way.

**To be continued!**

* * *

**Translations !**

**French**

_Qu'est ce que tu fais ici? :_What are you doing here ?

_Qu'est ce que je fais? T'as oublié notre anniversaire de quatre ans. _: What am **I** doing ? You forgot our four year anniversary !

_Hé! Pas dans la maison!_ : Hey ! Not in the house !

_Merci, Anna, pour ces quatre ans_. : Thank you Anna, for these four years.

_Non, madame! _: No madam !

_Allez! : _ Go!

_Amusez-vous! _: Have Fun !

_Je suis désolé que j'ai oublié_. :_ I am so sorry I forgot. _

_Je suis heureuse que rien de sérieux a passé. : _I'm happy nothing serious happened.

_Moi aussi_. :_ Me too. _

Je…essaie de tr…trouver le … palais de….uh… congrès. : I am trying to find the convention centre.

_Et tu_? :And you ?

Merci pour… l'assiss…tance. : Thanks for your help.

**Chinese**

"啊美, 啊丽": "Melody, Melissa" (These are the names of Leon's younger sisters.)

**So guys! Hey! Still remember me? Cookies for all!**

**Tell me what you think, if I'm repetitive, If I suck, If my story is boring and not creative. **

**Thanks for reading guys! And yes, Mathieu has a girlfriend.**

**CantoCookieMonster**


	6. Chapter 5: Coffee and Functions

**Hello all who read this, CCM here. I am sorry this took so long.**

**Well, I actually don't have much to say. My rant's at the bottom.**

**I don't own Hetalia! **

* * *

"_Aww, what's your brat doing! He's-a going to make it worse!" A tan woman smacked the man who had spoken._

"_Well, excuse me. If it was not for your explorer descendants, he wouldn't be there to make the mess!" _

_A blond man approached, along with another figure. "Let us not argue about the discovery of the modern world. It is not reversible." The two that had been arguing stopped._

"_Then what do you suggest, oh great long haired one whose descendants launched the world into near destruction?"_

"_Twice." The other man added to the tan woman's quip with a cheeky smile._

_While the blond man fumed at the words, a strawberry blonde woman behind him spoke. _

"_What we have been doing for the longest time. We wait and see."_

* * *

Mathieu sat down with his coffee at the only open table left in the small coffee shop down the street from his house. As he read through Leon's email on his phone, he wondered if he should see a doctor as well. Or at least call the police. For all he knew, those people could have been stalkers or extortionists or maybe even murderers. Sending a quick reply containing words that would hopefully cheer up Leon, he didn't even notice that someone was standing next to the empty seat at his two person table.

"May I sit here?" asked the person in English. "I'll be here for a while, and this is the last seat left."

"Yeah, sure," replied Mathieu in the same language, although he didn't like using it. Looking up, he saw that it was the man he had met a day ago. His name, the Quebecois couldn't remember. However, the other man remembered his.

"Mathieu, right? Thank you for giving me directions yesterday." Hearing the man speak, Mathieu was now sure he had an accent, but he did not know from where.

"No problem," said Mathieu with a smile, while putting away his phone. "So what are you doing around here, uh…?"

"Lars," replied the older blond. "I am waiting for some people." The man looked out the windows, and some people who saw him on the other side skittered away in fear. Lars, Mathieu decided, was the type that looked scary on the outside, but was rather nice when you got to know him. That brought up a question in Mathieu's head. Why was this man so nice to him when they were complete strangers? Also, how come he wasn't scared of Lars at all now, compared to when he and Lars first met in the park? Mathieu decided to ignore the questions and continue with the small talk.

"Is it for your girlfriend?" asked Mathieu.

Lars heard the question, and his face turned back towards Mathieu with a look of horror on his face that looked quite out of place. His eyes clearly said: 'What – how- No.' Netherlands was in fact waiting for Russia, who was arriving with England and France.

Taking a sniff of the air, Netherlands noticed there was a smell absent compared to the other times he had drank coffee in Canada. "You don't put maple syrup in your coffee?"

Mathieu looked at him like he was crazy. "Who does? That's a bit disgusting." The blond Dutchman hummed into his coffee, finding that he actually missed the familiar smell of maple. The two sat in silence, waiting for the other to initiate some sort of conversation. Usually, Mathieu would have had no problem, but something about this man kept him on his nerves.

It was Lars who moved first. Putting down his drink, the Dutch man reached into his pocket, and pulled out a tulip bulb, one of the many he carried around as impromptu gifts. "Here," he said, offering it to Mathieu. "As thanks for before." The Quebecois reached out to take it, and Lars put it firmly in his hand. "I admit, I would have been completely lost without your help." This was a lie. The Dutchman just felt that giving Canada something tulip related was natural, even if the person in front of him at the moment had denied that he was the northern nation.

"No problem," replied Mathieu. He was beginning to feel slightly off. Was there something in his coffee that was making him sick? _"I couldn't just sit back and watch you deteriorate. I guess I'm just trying to keep some peace in the midst of war." _

Netherlands looked at the teenager across from him in shock. The words he had just said were ones he could never forget, but before he could ask or say anything, Mathieu jumped up and ran out the door. Sighing, the European picked up his coffee and took a sip. He grimaced. Waiting for his fellow nations was getting boring. And his coffee was missing a certain something.

* * *

The Quebecois ran out of the coffee shop and didn't stop until he got to the park. Those words had not been his own. Sitting down on the concrete ring around a flower garden, the Quebecois repeated the sentence in his head over and over until he finally decided to say it once more. _"I couldn't just sit back and watch you deteriorate. I guess I'm just trying to keep some peace in the midst of war." _ Immediately, something flashed into his mind.

* * *

_Mathieu found himself looking at a field, riddled with muddy pits and footprints, but also some green shoots coming out of the ground. He tried moving or looking around, and found that he couldn't. It was like the body wasn't his to control._

_Footsteps from behind broke the silence, and his vision was suddenly brought around to rest on a tall blond man. Lars. The Quebecois called out to Lars, but found that his words were only in his head. Nothing actually came out. With a sigh, he gave up on trying to figure things out, as he had done the other time this had happened, and just waited what was going on. Maybe this would tell him why he didn't know where he was, or why he was seeing things that he had never seen before._

"_This used to be a beautiful field," said the Dutch man. "Now it has been blown apart."_

"_Things are growing back." Mathieu felt himself saying this, but he had not thought of saying anything. It was not even his voice. Was he inside someone else? The Quebecois tried to focus on the voice, because he could not see 'his own face' at the moment. "Don't worry. Everything will return to normal, Netherlands. It's only a matter of time." The voice did not have a European accent. To Mathieu, it sounded like the voices he usually heard when his parents invited friends from the English speaking parts of Canada. _

_Something else bothered him as well. Why had Lars been called Netherlands?_

_The European sighed. "I have probably been around longer than you, but yet you are the one comforting me."_

_Mathieu felt 'himself' laugh softly. "Picked it up from England, I guess. How is your royal family?"_

"_Safe and returned." Lars rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a tulip bulb. He held out, and Mathieu felt the person he was in take it from the tall man's hand. The Dutchman spoke again. "Thank you for everything. I do not know how I would have survived the war otherwise."_

"_I couldn't just sit back and watch you deteriorate." The person said. "I guess I'm just trying to keep some peace in the midst of war."_

_Mathieu's vision was brought to the field again, and he waited for something to happen as the two men stared in silence. The Quebecois wondered if he was stuck inside the person forever. However, he had a feeling that even if he got out, it wouldn't be the last time he would be found in these weird lapses of what seemed like memories. Maybe he __**should**__ see a doctor._

"_Thanks again, Canada. I'll never forget this," said Lars at last._

_Matthew finally felt himself drifting away, but found that he felt sad that he was leaving, that the moment actually had a comforting, nostalgic feeling._

_He heard one last thing before everything faded. "Canada's too formal. Call me Matthew."_

* * *

Mathieu jolted forward, but managed to keep himself seated on the low block of concrete he was on. He looked up, and he was definitely back in the park. There was no trace of any muddy field, any war torn scene. Everything was normal again.

The teen thought about what had just happened. 'He' had been called Canada, and the anglicized version of his own name. Canada. The men that had come on his birthday had called him that as well, didn't they? But there was no way that could be possible. Besides, Mathieu was a proud Quebecois who saw himself separate from the rest of Canada. He should be Quebecois and Quebecois only. However, he couldn't shake the thought of being **Canadian. **The blond tried to clear his head of the thoughts.

Turning around to face the flower garden, Mathieu found himself staring at an expanse of colour. The Quebecois shrugged and, reaching into his pocket for the tulip bulb, decided to put everything behind him for now. If something bad really happened, then he would tell someone. Nothing in him had really changed, besides the fact that he discovered he rather liked tulips.

* * *

Back in the café, Netherlands was getting impatient. From the time Mathieu had ran out of the door, it had been at least twenty minutes. He began to think that he should just leave and contact the others later. Seconds after he had finished his third cup of coffee, the sound of arguing entered the busy coffee shop.

"For the last time, Frog, that customs officer was not trying to hook up with you!"

"_Non, non, mon cher rosbif. __Mon amour _is given internationally, and accepted internationally. You are just jealous."

"Jealous? Ha! That would be almost the same as if I said I was jealous of the relationship between Russia and Belarus."

"Although I do not appreciate the comment, he is right, da?"

"The world cannot hide from my love!"

"Shut up you stupid frog. Everyone's looking."

Eyes followed the trio of European nations as they walked over to Netherlands. There were some disapproving looks from older customers of the shop, and some excited whispers from the younger female customers. Netherlands sighed. They should have had the meeting at the hotel.

"So, Netherlands," said England, "How is everything going?"

"He was here before, and I was talking to him," replied the Dutchman, "but he ran out after saying something strange."

France decided to join in. "Strange? Was he asking you out? Ah, teen love."

"No, it was something from World War 2."

England nodded solemnly. "Well, at least we know we have the right person. We'll arrange for Russia to go in as soon as possible." At this, Russia smiled, and seeing it, England and France shivered.

"Hé, Rosbif, when do I get to go?" asked the Frenchman after he recovered.

"Later." France did not deem England's answer acceptable, and started arguing with him. Netherlands looked at the two, and then looked at Russia, who was still smiling at him. He slowly got up. He needed another coffee. It looked like the small international meeting was not ending anytime soon.

* * *

**Vancouver, British Columbia**

"That's it for today, said the teacher while putting down a piece of chalk. "Any questions?"

Even after a couple classes, Iceland actually had way too many questions. How long had it been since he had taken math as a lesson? All he learned when he was younger was how to live as a Viking. Who ever said anything about functions and parabolas? The Icelandic nation put his pencils away in a pencil case that showed the Icelandic flag on the outside and packed away his binders as well. Looking up, he came face to face with the reason he was bothering with the math in the first place.

"What do you want?" asked Iceland. Leon smiled at him, looked away, then turned back.

"Do you want to go study or something? I can explain functions, or what I understand of it, to you." Iceland looked at the Asian teen, remembering how Hong Kong would always know exactly what he was thinking even when he didn't show it.

Twenty years was nothing to a nation, but twenty years without Hong Kong had seemed to drag on forever. Even though sometimes Hong annoyed the crap out of him, he wanted him back. There was just something… missing.

"Sure, I'll come."

* * *

Leon walked down the sidewalk with Emil behind him. "Uh…Do you know where you're going?" asked Emil.

"My house, where else?" The Asian turned around to face the European. "But brace yourself. There's no way of knowing what my sisters will do to you once they see your hair." Leon did know what Melissa and Melody would do to his new friend's hair, but he didn't know if the prospect of pink bows would deter him from visiting.

"So you have siblings," muttered Emil.

"Five, actually," said Leon, hearing his statement, "My parents say that my siblings couldn't live without me, but I think it's me who can't live without them."

Iceland was surprised the supposed Hong had so many siblings. He had been one the youngest in the East Asian family, but as the older brother of the Cheng family, Iceland guessed that Hong- no, Leon had responsibilities as an older brother.

"And…. We're here!" The two teens stood in front of the Cheng house, similar to how the Asian had stood there when they first came.

"Your house is big," was the only thing Emil could say.

"Six kids and enough money equals a big house," said Leon. "My parents own a restaurant, so its alight. Come on." They walked up the path and to the door. The moment that Leon put his hand on the doorknob, the door flew open and two little girl launched themselves at their older brother.

"Leeeeeeeeee!" It was the loudest thing Emil had ever heard, and considering he was constantly visited by Denmark, that was a true accomplishment. He heard Leon's laughter over the screaming. He wondered if this was what Hong Kong's laugh was like. There was only one time he had almost heard Hong Kong's laugh, and that time seemed so distant.

"啊哥, who's THAT?" Leon looked up from his sisters and saw his brothers staring at Emil, who was standing silently behind him.

"Guys, this is Emil."

The younger version of Leon in the doorway looked stonily at his brother. "Where's he from?"

"Iceland."

"What is he doing here?"

"We're going to study functions." Leon smiled and reached over to ruffle the younger boy's hair. "Don't worry Nate, it's not the people from my birthday. I'll be fine."

Nathan looked one more time at Emil, then walked back into the house. Leon motioned his other two brothers back into the house, and they followed his instructions. Now, he could deal with his sisters. "啊美, 啊丽, 放手啦." The two little girls let go, and when they did, immediately took notice of Emil.

"Wow! Your hair's WHITE!" shouted Melissa

"No, Silver!" exclaimed Melody.

"LET'S PUT BOWS IN IT!" Leon felt Emil tense up behind him. He called loudly for Nathan, who appeared within seconds of the call. The thirteen year old grabbed his two sisters, holding them back as Leon ran past them with Emil in tow. Shouts of 'no fair' fading away behind them, the two high school students made it up the stairs and to Leon's room, the door to which Leon locked right away.

"Why'd you-" Emil was cut off by the sounds of banging against the door and pleas to put bows in his hair. Leon sighed.

"They'll get tired in a minute." As the Asian teen said, the two little girls gave up after a while, and Leon went to unlock the door. "So, they don't teach functions in Iceland?"

The European blushed. "They teach it in Icelandic," he mumbled. Leon went over to where Emil was sitting on the floor with a piece of paper and a pen. As he began explaining, Iceland seriously wondered why math was that important.

"Um… Emil, is your bag moving?" Iceland looked over to his backpack and was extremely surprise when he saw that it was indeed moving. He reached over hesitantly, in case it was a prank Denmark had pulled. The moment he opened the zipper, his Puffin jumped out.

"Finally!" exclaimed Mr. Puffin. "I feel cramped. I am OUT." The bird flew out the open window, and Iceland shook his head at his pet's antics. Looking back to Leon, he saw the Asian gripping his pencil tightly, and had backed away a bit.

"How did you get a live puffin past customs?" asked Leon shakily. "And did he talk?"

Iceland thought about how he should reply. He couldn't tell Leon that he had arrived with his International passport that allowed anything past customs. The silver haired nation was also now sure that Leon was Hong Kong, because only Nations could hear the animals talk.

"Reasons," was all Iceland said. Noticing the others discomfort, the nation questioned further. " Are you okay?"

"I don't like animals." Iceland nodded, while wondering what would happen if Leon reunited with his panda. "Yet I like loud things, like fireworks."

"So that hasn't changed," mumbled Iceland. Leon heard the remark, but decided not to comment. They spent the rest of the afternoon studying, and when Iceland decided he should leave, Leon invited him to come again.

"Feel free to come anytime," he said, closing his books. "I'll keep my sisters away from your hair." The Asian smiled, and Emil gave him one in return. Seeing it, Leon tried to hide his chuckles.

"What?" asked Emil, blushing with embarrassment.

"I see you don't smile often," replied Leon lightly. "But that means I'm lucky I got to see one."

Leon wondered what the weird look on Emil's face meant as the Icelandic teen ran out the door.

* * *

That night, Leon lay in his bed, looking up at the bright firework like painting he had painted on his ceiling. He always wondered why he liked fireworks so much. However, he wondered even more why hanging out with Emil seemed so natural, even if a couple of days ago was the first time they had met. He slowly drifted off to sleep, the last thing he saw being a bright orange streak across his dark ceiling.

_He knew he had transitioned into a dream, when everything around him was what he remembered seeing before he and his parent immigrated to Canada. Leon stared at the Tsim Sha Tsui skyline from Hong Kong Island. Leon guessed he was in a lucid dream._

"_How much longer do we have to wait?" asked a voice from beside him. It was Emil. _

_An inner voice told him, '__**No. That's Iceland**__' _

"_Only a bit longer. It should be staring soon." Leon knew this was himself speaking, yet it wasn't himself. These were words that weren't his, yet at the same time, they could only be his. The voice was rather monotone, laced gently with sarcasm._

_Suddenly, a flash illuminated the sky. Fireworks decorated the skyline, rocketing off the tops and sides of buildings, off the harbor, and even off some small boats in front of the harbor. Some split into streams across the sky, and others burst into giant balls of colour, even spelling out letters and numbers._

_The two leaned on the railing that kept them from the ocean. As the fireworks started to die down, Iceland spoke. "Hey, why do you like fireworks so much?" _

_The person thought about it, then answered. "It was the only thing England didn't manage to take away from me." There was another lapse of silence, before Leon's view was brought to the face of the Icelandic teen. _

"_You're smiling," 'he' said._

_The pale-haired nation blushed. "Something wrong with that?"_

_The monotone voice spoke with a light laugh. "I'm guessing you don't smile often, but that means I'm lucky I got to see it." _

"_Shut up. It's the same as your laugh." As the last burst of fireworks exploded, lighting up the area, the two looked directly at it, blinding them slightly. Blinking a couple times the two young nations looked at each other._

"_So? Is it better than a volcano?" _

"…_Yes." _

* * *

Leon woke up slowly, greeted by the light of early dawn. So if his dream was right, Emil was Iceland, which was a country. The Asian shook the preposterous idea from his head. That was impossible. A person couldn't be a country.

But if Emil had been Iceland – not saying that he was- , who had he been?

* * *

**Translations!**

"_Non, non, mon cher rosbif": _"No, no, my dear rosbif" (French nickname for the English.)

"啊美, 啊丽，放手啦" : "Melissa, Melody, Let go now."

**RAWR. I apologize for the crappiness of this chapter. I was stressing out on how to write it, and this, this BLEH was the outcome.**

**I sincerely apologize, but I hope it was decent enough for you all not to hate me.**

**Review, GIVE ME FEEDBACK (CRITICIZE ME. GOD KNOWS I NEED IT.).**

**Thanks for reading what comes out of an exam ravaged brain,**

**CCM**


	7. Chapter 6: Differences and Worries

**Hello all you people out there. I am sorry I update slow. School is getting the better of me.**

**If you're still reading this story, I thank you so much.**

**I don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

Leon woke up, and sluggishly pushed his covers off of his body. Throwing off his pajama shirt, which was big and white, he pulled an "I love HK" shirt out of his closet, one of the many that his relatives always gave him after they had forgotten they had given him one the year before. Looking at his messed up bed, he promised he would be back after breakfast. Weekends were for slacking, right? Leon made his way down the stairs, hearing his family around the table in the kitchen.

"LEE'S AWAKE!" exclaimed the twins, although they remained at the table, eating the Saturday morning dim sum their parents always made before going to the restaurant.

"About time," huffed Nathan, who was wearing an apron and had the front of his hair pinned back.

"Nate, you look like a housewife," said Leon.

"Leon, you look like a bum," retorted Nate. "Now go sit." The eldest grabbed a cup of hot tea from the counter, and took a seat between Ryan and Michael. Michael immediately latched on to his older brother, and he received a head pat in return. Ryan just stared at his brother as the hot tea was brought to Leon's lips.

"Lee, what are you doing?" Ryan asked.

"What does it look like?" asked Leon teasingly.

"Don't you hate hot tea?" mumbled Michael as he lightly touched the cup and drew his hand away, his fingers slightly red.

"I…do." Leon put down the cup and stared at it, confused.

In Quebec, Mathieu lay on the grass in his backyard, enjoying the summer sun. He had no plans for the morning, no hockey, no trips, nothing at all. He hadn't spent time like this for a long time, just lying on his land, surrounded by nothing but peace.

Everything was quiet, and the Quebecois found himself drifting off, relaxing on the soft grass. Marie saw her son lying still on the ground and immediately pulled open the screen door that led to the backyard. "Mathieu_! Que fais-tu_?"

"_Je me détends en silence_," replied Mathieu, not moving an inch. "It is very nice like this."

Marie looked incredulously at her son. "For once, you are not listening to loud music and running around? _C'est une grande change, ça_."

Mathieu blinked a couple times as his mother walked away. He bolted up and turned his head to look at the imprint he had left on the grass. The blades slowly stood back up, the weight removed from on top of them. The blond just watched, wondering what possessed him to stay still for so long.

* * *

**Quebec City, Quebec**

England walked around the streets of Old Québec, trying not to stand out in case anyone tried to talk to him. He usually didn't visit this part of Canada because of the language difference, and god forbid he actually try to learn the language of the bloody Frog across the channel. He had to admit though, the European styled Old Québec was beautiful, from the churches to the Chateau Frontenac. Fully satisfied with his self-tour of the district, he started heading back to the place where was to meet with France, Netherlands and Russia.

As he turned the corner, a familiar figure caught his eye. Fast paced movement, blond, glasses, and cowlick. England moved towards the man. At the same time, the person moved, manoeuvring into a crowd of people that trapped up England. However, the Brit got a clear view of the face of the person he was chasing.

What in the world was America doing in Quebec at this time?

A couple blocks away, the personification in question brushed himself off, congratulating himself for a job well done. "England's getting old, there's no way he can ever catch me."

Holding a set of black clothes, keys to his car, and a book on Canadian-American relations, America continued on his way.

* * *

Sliding the hotel room key in and out of the lock, England listened for the telltale click before entering. Around the table in the suite he saw France and Netherlands looking over sheets and books, as well as flight arrangements and the plan outline. It was nice to see France serious for once.

"Welcome back, England. We just sent Russia off," said Netherlands, "He'll be back later." England nodded, and sat down with the two other nations.

"Did you two receive anything from America concerning his arrival in Quebec?" asked the British nation. His fellow representatives shook their heads. This worried England, due to the fact that for the past couple of years, waiting for Canada made America even more and more determined to get him back. There was no knowing what he would do. America and Canada shared the most cultural similarities, the most economic factors and the most history with each other. If America stepped out of line and rushed the plan, everything could go to heck in a hand basket.

The Frenchman pulled out his cell phone, dialed America's number, and waited for someone to pick up. Moments later, he ended the call. "'E told his boss that he would be absent for ze next two weeks or so," said France.

"His flight records say he landed yesterday," declared Netherlands, finishing a search on the international database.

England shook his head. "For God's sake, America."

* * *

A burst of cold air burst past Mathieu as he opened the doors to the ice rink. This was his home away from home. Hockey was his sport, being the most important after his family, Anna, Leon, his other friends, and school. The Quebecois had forgotten when he had started playing the sport, though it did not really matter, as long as he was still playing.

His teammate and close friend Jean-Pierre came up behind him, playfully tapping his head with a hockey stick. "_Pourquoi restes-tu ici? Nous devons nous préparer avant que coach arrive!"_

Mathieu laughed at his friend's enthusiasm even toward getting ready for practice. "_Je sais. Allons-y!" _Both teens rushed into the change room and, greeting their other teammates, got all their hockey gear on. The team was the best in the league, and they were very close knit. Most players had started the sport from their childhood, and absolutely loved the sport.

"_Hé Mathieu!_ How is Anna?" asked one of the team members. The group laughed as Mathieu started going on about how wonderful his girlfriend was. This started an entire chain centered on teasing the players who had girlfriends. By the time the team got out on the ice, it seemed as if they had never left from the previous practice.

As everyone grinded to a halt with the least snow-spray possible, they noticed another player standing next to their coach. He was huge, almost 6 feet with broad shoulders. Many members of the team were hoping that their coach was going to say it was a new member of their team, and not of others.

"This is Ivan Braginsky, an international student from Russia," explained the coach, "He will be joining our team to continue his hockey career."

Jean-Pierre nudged Mathieu with his elbow. "_C'est impossible. Comment est-il un étudiant?" _Mathieu shrugged. He couldn't really believe that this European was going to be a first year university student.

"**He's at least a thousand."**

The Quebecois looked around to see who could have spoken, and realised that only he had heard it. It had been his thought. He made eye contact with the new Russian player, and suddenly spoke on impulse. "Hey Ivan, where's your scarf?"

The Russian patted the area around his neck. "Comrade Francis made me leave it behind. You should have brought me one, Matvey." Both of them chuckled lightly.

Everyone looked at the two. "So you two know each other then?"

At the same time Ivan answered yes, Mathieu looked as if he was about to say yes, but shook his head and said no. A quick flash of irritation passed over the Russian's face, but it quickly disappeared as he remembered that this boy wasn't supposed to remember anything, which meant he had no idea who he really was.

"He doesn't speak French so we'll have to speak English from now on." Hearing this, many of the team members groaned. Most of them never bothered to pay attention in English classes, so when the order for introductions came, only names were announced. This made Ivan a bit mad that no one seemed to be friendly, so he took matters into his own hands.

"I am Ivan Braginsky, from Russia. One day, I want to have all countries united as one."

The coach laughed. "United under hockey? That's a big dream."

The Russian looked confused but just shrugged. "Not really, but okay." There was no need to pull out the lead pipe. Yet.

The team was starting to get restless, so they started on skating drills. As they skated, whereas usually no one could keep up with him, Mathieu found Ivan right beside him, and even passing him sometimes. The Russian, although big, was light as, for lack of better words, ballerina on the ice. "Matvey, I think you have become slower than before." Hearing that from someone he had never played against only made Mathieu mad. He sped up, but the new player kept up the pace. The rest of the team could only watch as Mathieu and Ivan skated past them many times even though they were doing the same drill.

"Matvey, I believe you are about to Ludwig's level now, but still nowhere close to where you were before," said Ivan.

"Since when have I played hockey with you?" asked Mathieu irritably after spitting out his mouth guard. "And what do you mean by 'Ludwig level'?"

"You will see," replied the Russian, who then skated away to speak to the coach. After a couple minutes, Ivan skated away from the coach, who sighed dejectedly.

"We will have a practice game. Split off into two teams." When no one moved, the coach shook his head and began dividing the team. Mathieu found himself facing off at center ice with Ivan, who was smiling at him. It began to get a bit creepy.

"Ready Matvey?" the puck dropped, and the action started instantly. For the next half hour, Ivan and Mathieu went full out against each other. At first, Mathieu began to fall behind, but he found himself quickly adapting to the Russian's playing style, as if he had really played against him before. A half hour passed by quickly and after the practice was over, the entire team except for Ivan and Mathieu were completely spent.

"Matvey, your people are a little weak," said the Russian. Mathieu did not notice the use of the words 'his people'.

"I know. But they are good players. You'll see."

Both of them smiled fakely at one another. "Then we will settle this on the ice, Matvey. If you get hurt, do not blame me, da?" Mathieu laughed, and did not realise that Ivan had not been joking around.

If Russia was to make Mathieu remember Canada's prowess, strength and ruthlessness when he played hockey, there was going to be some violence on the ice.

* * *

**Vancouver, BC**

"So, you ready to work?" asked Leon. Emil looked at Leon, glared at him, shook his head and ignored him.

"Why do I have to work at your parents' restaurant anyways?" Leon thought of how to answer without receiving another glare, and found that all his reasons were glare-worthy.

"Because I don't want to work alone?" Glare. Leon sighed. He had tried.

The two arrived in front of a large Chinese restaurant. Leon led the way in, and they walked all the way to the kitchen. As they walked through, Leon was greeted by every worker and almost every customer in the restaurant. Iceland realised that this was Leon's life as a normal student who worked part-time, who did not have to care about the well being of the economy, the worries of his people, and the relations with other countries.

"It's really nice here," said Iceland, knowing that Leon would probably not understand the context he was speaking in.

"Right? Now, get working!" Leon tossed an apron at Iceland before disappearing behind the kitchen doors. Pulling the white, bleach-smelling apron off his head, he reached for the doors as well, but found himself looking at the customers entering instead. It was a young man and a young woman, talking to each other as they walked in. They looked familiar, but then again, he couldn't distinguish from the distance he was from the door. Deciding to ignore it, he headed into the kitchen just as Leon came back out.

"I'm going to go serve some tables, so I'll be back in couple minutes," said Leon while tying and pinning back his medium length hair. "My dad probably has something for you to do. He's in the kitchen." Wearing a formal server's uniform, Leon headed out into the service area towards an unserved table. Iceland shrugged and went into the kitchen.

The Asian teen spotted a table with two people sitting and talking with no tea on their table. He approached the two, and spoke first in Cantonese. Only the man looked up, and when Leon saw his face, he moved back a bit. It was one of the men who had come to his house on his birthday. The man motioned to the woman, and she looked up as well. Leon did not know how to react, but he at least had to serve them.

"What tea would you like?" he asked in Cantonese, but the woman didn't seem to understand. Thinking, he spoke again, but this time the question came out in a language completely different that any he knew. It was like a mix of different languages, but it sounded completely normal.

The two replied in the same way, before staring at him in shock. In the same amount of shock, Leon quickly wrote down the order, dropped it off t the kitchen, and went to the bathroom, trying to calm himself own. However, the harder he tried to regulate his breathing, the more he felt like he needed to breathe. The result was an awkward hyperventilation, where he gripped the side f the counter so hard that his knuckles were white.

What had been that language? Leon tried to make the sounds again, but found that he could not. He was sure that no country had a language that sounded like that. Those people had spoken to him in the same language. They were part of the group that had come that day. Why? Why were they here? Why? What was happening?

"**It is time to return. It will be done in time."**

Leon was completely lost. Return to what? To a place? To a person?

Return where?

"**To yourself."**

What will be done?

"**It will all come back."**

Who were these people?

"**You know who they are."**

No, he didn't.

"**They are your brother and sister."**

No they aren't.

"**Do you know who you are?"**

Leon Cheng.

"**Do you know who you are."**

... Not anymore.

* * *

Iceland was just coming back out of the kitchen when he watched Leon run past him after dropping off a tea order that he would probably have to fill. Moving hurriedly in a restaurant was normal, guessed Iceland, but he look of shock on Leon's face was definitely not. Glancing at the way to the restrooms, Iceland decided to give him some space, and go talk to the other nations present instead.

He walked casually, though nervously, over to Macau and Taiwan's table. He had not really talked to these two before and only knew them by association through Hong Kong. "Hello."

Taiwan looked up, teary eyed. "We didn't know this was that restaurant."

Macau sighed. "We'll leave as fast as we can. We don't need to stay longer."

"Is it your turn though?" asked Iceland.

"In a couple days, so we were scouting the area." The male Asian nation shook his head. "I guess we came a little early."

"Did anything happen?" By the looks of Taiwan, something did. The Taiwanese nation was actually on the brink of tears.

"I haven't heard his voice in so long, so when he spoke nation, it just seemed like he had already come back." Iceland blinked a couple times. Leon shad spoken nation? That was a signal that he was Hong Kong, that they weren't chasing after the wrong person. At least that fact was comforting.

"You should go check on Leon now, he's probably having some trouble with the shock." Macau stood up, and motioned for Taiwan to do so as well. There was no use in staying longer. "Sorry for the trouble."

Iceland watched the two leave, then wondered how he was to act around Leon. How much about him did the Asian remember now?

* * *

Leon had returned home after his small panic attack, and after saying goodbye to Emil and apologizing, he turned on his laptop to check his email.

_**From: **__Matt L._

_**To: **__Leon C._

_**Subject:**__ How are you?_

_I remember last time you emailed me, you were having some problems. If there is ever anything you need you can ask me, and we can video chat, alright? _

_I am coming to Vancouver soon, and we can meet up then. A new player joined our team, and I'm not very happy with him, but I hope I can make it work._

_Keep me updated on your situation._

_-Mathieu_

He typed a reply before turning off his laptop. Leon lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. There was something going on, and he didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing.

_**From: **__Leon C._

_**To: **__Matt L._

_**Subject:**__ Re: How are you?_

_Hey Matt. _

_I think I'm going to go to a psychologist. Can we chat when you have the time?_

_Thanks, _

_Leon._

* * *

When Macau and Taiwan had returned to the hotel looking depressed, China knew immediately that something had gone wrong. Now waiting for England to pick up the phone, he prepared himself to discuss the plan.

"For God's sake do you know what time it is?" said England as he picked up.

"I know that it isn't the time you would go to sleep aru." China heard England sigh over the phone.

"So, how is it on your side?" asked the European nation.

"Taiwan and Macau sped up their appearance a bit aru, so it depends whether you want to come over t our original time or earlier." China looked at a text that Norway had forwarded to him from Iceland. "It seems the boy isn't taking it too well though. He's having what seems like panic attacks every time he sees us or he remembers something." The older Asian personification was actually very worried. If Leon took small memories like this badly, there was no knowing what would happen when the more serious memories came back.

In Quebec, England put his phone on speaker so France, Netherlands, and Russia could all hear what was going on. "I think you should wait until your planned time, Rosbif," said France. England agreed. There was no use in going and putting more pressure on the boy when he was already having so much trouble.

"How is Canada doing?" Russia stepped up to answer China's question.

"Matvey is different, da? But I will have him back to normal in no time." Every one that heard Russia's answer reminded themselves to pray for the safety of Mathieu Lalonde.

England informed China of America's unexpected arrival, and that they would all have to be careful.

All the nations would have to be careful from now on, because it was now that the plan was going to pick up speed.

* * *

**Translations**

Mathieu_! Que fais-tu_?: Mathieu! What are you doing?

_C'est une grande change, ça. :_That's a big change.

_Pourquoi restes-tu ici? __Nous devons nous préparer avant que coach arrive!" _: Why are you still here? We have to go prepare before coach arrives!

"_Je sais. Allons-y!" :_I know, Let's go!

_Hé Mathieu : _Hey Mathieu!

_C'est impossible. Comment est-il un étudiant?: _That's impossible. How can he be a student?

**So... I know. You're thinking "OMG she's so bad. Why does she even try, like stop." *sigh* Back to the homework.**

**Thanks for reading, guys.**

**Comments, questions, concerns, criticism, encouragement, and suggestions, I welcome them all.**

**If you think I need it, let me have it.**

**CCM out.**


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